Why We Fight
by toomanyfandomssolittletime
Summary: Eleanor Thompson never wanted to be a nurse, much less one in the Navy, but times were tough and she needed the money. When she gets offered the chance to join the Marines for a bump in pay, Eleanor jumps at the opportunity. Even in the hellfire's of the Pacific Theatre of War, Eleanor finds bonds she never expected. Companion piece to 'All This Hell'.
1. Don't Fence Me In

**_Disclaimer:_ I own nothing. I do not wish to offend anyone with this story. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the men who fought in the Pacific. This story is purely for entertainment purposes and the characters are based on the the actor's portrayals in the mini-series.**

 _1942_

This story, like many others, began on a train. Not just any train, it was full of Marines fresh from boot camp on their way to New River where the 1st Marines were being reactivated. This train had carts of anxious Marines playing cards, talking, singing songs, doing anything to pass the time. They were told where they were going, there would be no big bands, no alcohol –with the exception of beer, and more importantly, no girls. Only that last one was not entirely true.

See, on this train in a compartment towards the middle, sat a woman in her dress blue uniform. Her blonde hair was fashioned with the stylish curls every woman wore, and a cap rested on her head. Her lips painted red with lip stick, and her legs covered in fake nylon stockings. She'd drawn on the seam herself to look fashionable. She was the average height for a woman, which made her short in comparison to many of the men. Her arms were toned with muscle from the last six weeks of boot camp. She was alone going through it. They tried very hard to make her fail, but if she could learn the entire tap number from _Swing Time_ , both the male and female parts, then she sure as Hell could handle boot camp. Determination, moxie, and a tough skin got her through it.

She sat on the train with a book in hand, _A Farewell to Arms,_ which she picked up from the book store down the street from the train station in Buffalo. Her eyes glanced over the pages, not absorbing any of it. She chewed on her nails until there were nothing but nubs. She kept thinking one thing over and over again: _Please, don't let this be a mistake._

Her name was Eleanor Thompson. She'd been a Navy Nurse since August 1941, before the United States entered the war. Then December 7th, the day was would live in infamy, happened. Two months later, Eleanor was brought in her commanding officer's office where she met some Marine big wigs who explained that she was chosen to head to the front line with the men because they want to test the effectiveness of women in battle, along with a number of other things. She was hesitant at first, and then they mentioned the fifty-dollar a month raise. The offer was too good to pass up. She volunteered and one month and a half later, she was sitting on a train to head to the 1st Marine Division. She was one of five subjects to this experiment. Only two others would make it through training. Only three would see and experience combat first hand.

Perhaps only the start of the beginning happened on the train. Every story has a prologue. Something that sets up the rest of the story. Perhaps, it would do well to go to where this story truly starts. It wasn't at boot camp, nor was it even in the first weeks at New River –though those days proved to be lonely and difficult. Her story truly began on a march.

* * *

Eleanor remembered it being hot as her pack sat uncomfortably on her back. She'd been at New River for a few weeks but hadn't met most of the men. Truthfully, they seemed unsure about what to do with her. She spent most of her days in the sick bay training corpsmen what to do. She kept to herself for the most part, her presence at the camp was relatively unknown. No one truly believed the corpsmen who would go back to their friends and tell them about the broad. She met most of the officers, but they looked at her as a temporary annoyance.

That is, until they began to realize that she was not going anywhere. For the first few weeks, Eleanor was not assigned a Company. She slept in the sick bay separated by a curtain. The Marines were not meant for women; she'd been told that from the start.

"If they aren't, then how come I'm still here?" She replied, and then was chewed out for not showing the proper degree of respect to a Commanding Officer.

Outspoken, that's what she'd always been.

Finally, when she supposed they figured out that she was not going anywhere, and that they couldn't get rid of her because the order for this 'experiment' came straight from the Military Office, she was assigned to Half Company, Second Battalion, First Marines, or H/2/1 as everyone else called it.

This march was her introduction to a group of men who had bonded weeks ago. Her new CO, Captain Jameson, sized her up with much gusto. He tried to be intimidating, but Eleanor was not scared by him. She met Lieutenant Hugh Corrigan, he was a bit kinder to her. Among the enlisted men, she recognized PM3 Lewis from her training sessions.

"I told you!" He bragged to the other men when they caught sight of her.

"He wasn't kidding," she heard one of them mutter.

"Men, this is Lieutenant Nurse Thompson, she has been assigned to H Company as a corpsman," Jameson bitterly explained. Eleanor kept in her retort. "There will be _no fraternizing._ "

Not like she was going to go down that road.

"She is to be regarded as any other Marine. And she _will_ be _treated_ accordingly." The way he looked at her, she was merely an annoyance.

Well, at least he's not one to skip on the theatrics.

It was a ten mile march in full pack. Eleanor had fallen towards the back of the company. The entire battalion was on the march. She was hot, dehydrated, and felt almost ready to pass out. Never had she marched like this before. She was having a hard enough time keeping herself upright, she had to keep an eye on the men around her. That was her job, after all, and though it wasn't where she saw her life going, she'd be damned if she did it badly.

She could see the men ogling her when they would stop. There were no other women around for miles. She sat off to the side alone and took a drink of water from her canteen. No, this was not the life she thought she would lead.

"… a broad Marine?" She could hear snippets of conversation all directed towards her. She heard them talking about her looks, theorizing who she slept with to get her way into the Marines.

Eleanor did not listen. Quite frankly, she was bored by it. This was nothing new. She'd been listening to the same conversation since boot camp. She had a tough skin.

This would be their first amphibious assault exercise, Eleanor's first field exercise yet. There were knots tying in the pit of her stomach. There were boats lined up. The men went and swiftly climbed over the sides. Eleanor looked at them with great apprehension. Her pack weighed heavily on her back, there was no way she could hop over the side.

 _Just do it. How hard can it be?_

Eleanor took a deep breath and placed her foot on the step and struggled to climb up. Her grip began to slip as someone grabbed her by the arm and helped her climb over top.

"Thanks," she said once she landed over the side.

"Anytime," he replied with a wink. The man looked to be about her age with big blue eyes. He was taller than her too. "I'm Robert Leckie."

He held out his hand which she took and shook.

"Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson," she replied.

The boat was full. Eleanor stood right in the middle row between Robert Leckie and another Marine. The other was about her age with a strong jaw, dark brown eyes. He was attractive. Strong, and rugged. She'd be a fool not to realize.

Her heart was pounding as the boats began the route in the choppy Atlantic Ocean water. It wasn't real, but she the fear in the bones definitely was. She was absolutely insane to be doing this. _But I need the money._ We _need the money._

They were barely on the water when Eleanor heard a gag behind her and then felt something hot on the back of her neck.

She didn't have to touch it to know it was vomit. She could smell it. Her face twisted into an expression of disgust.

"You gotta be kidding me," she mumbled under her breath.

"Can't you use your helmet?!" The Marine on her left chastised the guy behind her. "Christ, Junior, that's what it's there for."

 _Great start._

Junior hurled again, this time it seemed like he took notes. Others who were not used to boats or had weaker stomachs had also vomited, they used their helmets too. She could feel the vomit hardening on the back of her neck and in her tied bun which hung right below her helmet.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Eleanor got out of the boat. She, unfortunately, had to wait until after they went through drills before she could clean off. During the practice, Eleanor ran a few simulations with Lewis, considering she was going to be working with him. He was a smart kid, a very eager almost puppy-like personality. He was good at the job, but he was young.

"How old are you, Lewis?" Eleanor asked him when they finally took a break.

"Eighteen, miss… ma'am?" he asked unsure of how to address her. He never said a word when Eleanor was doing training for the corpsmen.

 _Eighteen?_

"Ma'am will do," she told him. Though being called ma'am in the military was formality, she assumed, it still made her feel much older than them.

* * *

After training was done for the day, Leckie, Chuckler, Hoosier, and a new guy named Wilbur Conley –but his nickname was Runner because he was a track star back in school – set up their tent and then sat in front smoking their allotted Raleigh's. They could see the new corpsman, Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson trying to pop up her tent with the help of Lewis. Her hair was down and wet, she must've cleaned out Junior's puke.

"A woman Marine, never thought I'd see it," Chuckler commented. "Think it'll stick?"

"Overheard Ivy League talking to Stone," Hoosier spoke up, "she's already passed through boot camp."

"But why us?" Chuckler asked. "Why do we get the dame?"

"Maybe we're just lucky, Chuckler," Leckie voiced. She was beautiful, even with wet hair.

"Women like that don't belong out here," Hoosier countered.

"I would not mind getting my shots from a girl who looks like that," Chuckler noted.

"Should we go help her?" Runner asked as Lieutenant Thompson and Lewis struggled to put up the tent.

"Nah, she outta figure it out for herself. If she can't handle poppin' a tent, can't do much else, can she?" Hoosier stated.

"Uh-huh, like you can do it," Leckie countered. "Hear that fellas? Hoosier's gonna pop up the tent all by himself."

"Fuck you," he retorted still leaning back with his smoke dangling out of his mouth.

"Still doesn't answer my question, think it'll stick?" Chuckler repeated. "Think a girl can handle it?"

"Can any of us?" Runner asked. It was a grim thought that no one wanted to think about. When the inevitability of battle came upon them, Leckie wondered if he would be a coward. He'd like to think he'd be brave. They all would.

* * *

 **I'm back! So here is the first chapter of Eleanor's story. I really hope you all enjoy the story. I'm so excited about this story. For those who are reading this and have not read 'All This Hell', you may want to check that story out first, though it isn't a necessity.**

 **Warning: Updates may be a bit slower than All This Hell because I only have about 60 pages of this story written and am in school full time.**


	2. Ain't Misbehavin'

As the weeks went by, Eleanor was falling in step with the rest of the men. She'd treated quite a few rolled ankles and other minor training injuries. Though the part she was expecting, but it still pissed her off, came from the unwelcome touches. She would be walking through the mess tent, or during training when all the sudden, she'd feel a pinch on her butt. She'd bite the inside of her cheek and suppress the urge to smack them across the mouth. However, she was reaching her limit with it.

She became fast friends with Lewis, though that was mostly due to them constantly working together.

Eleanor was in the sick bay, she had one day a week where she worked in here instead of out in the field, when a young Marine came limping in. He had light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a boyish look about him. Eleanor doubted he was eighteen.

"Over here, Private," she directed him over to the empty cot. The boy sat on the bunk and Eleanor went over to him. "What happened?"

"We were runnin'," he started in a soft Southern accent, "I was carrying the barrel tube when I tripped and caught my ankle at a funny angle, ma'am."

Eleanor crouched down and checked the ankle. It was swollen. She wrapped it up.

"I've seen you. What's your name?" She asked.

"Private Sidney Phillips, ma'am," he answered.

"Well, Phillips, looks like you twisted your ankle," she told him. "I wouldn't worry. You just need to take it easy for a couple of days. Stay off of it the rest of the day, you can stay in here."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said.

Eleanor got up and went back to taking inventory. She was letting herself be distracted from the loneliness she felt. Why was she doing this? Why was she here and not back in Chicago? _Because the money. Because it's the right thing to do for her._

The right thing to do for the people she cares about. She'd done harder. She'd already proven to herself that she could physically handle it. She was in the best shape of her life, and that was entirely because of the Marines.

"Ma'am, you got a smoke?" Phillips asked. Eleanor reached in the pocket of her dungarees and found her full pack of cigarettes. She didn't know why she still even had the pack. Eleanor didn't smoke.

"Here," she said as she tossed him the pack.

"Lucky Strikes?" Phillips questioned. "All we get are Raleigh's."

Of course the officers get better smokes.

"Keep it," she told him. He gave her a disbelieving look. "I don't smoke. Better they not go to waste."

"Thank you," he told her.

"How old are you?" She asked.

"Seventeen," he answered. "I'm gonna be eighteen in August."

 _Seventeen._

"Just a kid," she mumbled under her breath. His poor mother.

"What was that?"

"Nothing…" she drifted off.

"Ma'am… I hope you won't take offence to this, by why are you here?" He asked.

"To make sure you men don't die out there?" she retorted. "To do the job I've trained to do? To do my patriotic duty? Pick whatever suits you."

"But what made you join the Marines?"

She shrugged. "I was a Navy nurse. They asked. I came... I have to get back to work. Make sure you keep that ankle elevated."

She went back to the desk where she had her book. She looked back over at the young man in the bed, smoking, already clearly bored. She grabbed the book off the desk and went back to him.

"Here," she handed it to him.

" _A Farewell to Arms?_ "

"I love Hemingway," she replied. "Keep yourself entertained, unless you want to help me count bandages."

"I think I'll stick to the book," he said. "Thank you, ma'am."

Eleanor went back to work. Private Phillips seemed to be a good kid. A bright kid with a bright future ahead of him if he can make it through this war. Seventeen and out here fighting a war, doing the work of men. But wasn't that what she was doing too? The work of men? Never has there been a female corpsman. It goes against the title. Eleanor always knew she would make a name for herself, she just thought it would happen differently.

 _A name is a name, ain't it?_

Eventually, they would head to the front. There, Eleanor knew there was a good chance that many of them would not make it back.

* * *

 _A week later – End of March 1942_

Eleanor wasn't sure what brought this on, but they were doing a race. It was a two-hundred-meter dash. Everyone, including most of the officers, were participating. She had always been a good sprinter. When she was a little girl, she would run around the halls of the orphanage she grew up in to hide from the nuns. She learned to be quick. Her legs had always been the strongest part of her body and she had a ballet dancer's endurance.

She managed to weave through the scores of men until it was down to her and another Marine sprinting. Her lungs were getting heavy at this point. Whatever energy she had left, she poured it into the last push to the finish.

She didn't win. She lost only by a step. After she made it over the finish line, she rested her hands on her knees and tried to catch her breath. She had not run like that in a long time.

"Nice running," the winner complimented her, also catching his breath. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin.

"Thanks," she replied. "You too."

"Private Wilbur Conley," he introduced himself. "Most people call me 'Runner'."

He held out her hand to shake.

"Runner? Well, they got that right," she joked and shook his hand. "Eleanor Thompson."

"You from New York?" He asked.

"Chicago," she countered.

"Damn, normally I'm good at spotting a New Yorker," he explained.

"I… I grew up in Buffalo," she admitted.

"No kidding. I'm from Buffalo," he added. "Where?"

"Elm Street," she responded.

"Niagara Street."

To think, Claire grew up a few blocks away but had never met Conley until now. Funny how wars seem to make the world feel much smaller.

More of the Marines began crossing the finish line. She saw that Lewis was in the middle of the pack. Sidney Phillips had crossed. She recognized Robert Leckie from when he helped her climb up and into the boat, and the Marine that stood next to her when Junior had vomited on her. The third, a tall, curly haired man, she did not know him. She still had yet to learn all their names, but she was getting better.

"Nearly got your ass kicked by a girl, Runner, you're slippin'," the one from the boat teased. They must've not seen her standing a little bit off to the side.

"Well, you all _did_ get beat by a girl," Eleanor spoke.

"Lieutenant, sorry, didn't see you there," the tall one responded.

"It's alright. I understand that someone my height can easily be missed," she shrugged it off.

"Lieutenant, this is Chuckler, Hoosier, and Lucky," Conley introduced.

"I'm gonna guess those aren't your real names, otherwise your parents had a funny sense of humour," Eleanor added. She pointed to Leckie. "Now I've met you, but you two…"

"Private Lew Jurgens, ma'am," the tall one, who Conley said was Chuckler, introduced.

"Private Bill Smith," the one from the boat, Hoosier, spoke with a thick southern accent.

"Nice to meet you," she replied with a smile.

* * *

 _April 1942_

Eleanor woke up to the smell of fire, the same smell she'd woken up to the past week. Someone had the brilliant idea to wake everyone up by setting fires. Most of the enlisted men believed it was the Major, and she agreed. Who else would do that? The fire was always set someplace where there was no danger of it spreading. Eleanor shot out of bed, through on her boot and dungarees before sprinting out to help douse the flames. Well, try to help. They would mostly usher her back where it was safest.

The fire today was bigger than the last. She was standing off a bit to the side where Lieutenant Corrigan ordered her to go. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Robert Leckie starting to run away, the pant of his leg caught fire.

Without a moment of hesitation, Eleanor sprinted after him.

"Stop!" She yelled after him. "Leckie! Stop!"

She kept chasing him down, as were his friends, Conley, Jurgens, and Smith. Leckie leapt over the fence. He was rolling on the ground, suffocating the flames.

Eleanor took off her jacket, the white tank top and bra revealed, leapt over the fence and started patting down Leckie until the flames were finally gone.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah… thanks."

"If I ever meet that Major, I'm going to throttle him," she growled under her breath, but loud enough that Leckie heard.

Eleanor's eyes went wide for a second, realizing what she'd said, until Leckie started laughing. Soon, she started laughing too. They both sat in the dirt, Eleanor's jacket still off, hysterically laughing.

"Everything okay?" She heard Conley ask.

She was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes. Eventually she composed herself long enough.

"Come on Leckie, I should get you to the aid station," she said as she got up, grabbed her jacket and put it back on before helping him up to his feet. "Can you walk?"

"Uh…" he took a step forward and his face twisted into a painful mask. "Nope."

"Okay," she said. She draped one of his arms over her shoulder and helped him stand up. He was a lot heavier than he looked. "Would one of you be able to help me get him there?"

Smith went to the other side to support him.

Leckie wasn't the only one who got minor burns. By the time she made it back, there was half a tent full. Lewis had already started.

"Alright, Leckie, I'll set you down here and take a look at that leg."

Hoosier helped her lead him to the empty cot.

"Thank you," she told Smith gratefully. She looked down at Leckie. "I'll be right back."

"Not like I'm going anywhere."

Eleanor walked over to the other side of the sick bay and grabbed the supplies she needed to make the paste. She walked back over. Smith, she noticed, was still standing there. She ignored him for the most part and set off to work. Leckie's burns weren't bad. He wouldn't be sent home, but he'd stay off his leg for a few days. She cut the pants and picked out any bits of singed fabric that had melted to his skin. He winced and jerked the leg when she would go to pick out the fabric.

"It'll hurt more if you keep moving like that," she promised.

"Can't you be a bit more delicate?" He asked.

"Aw, did you want me to hold your hand and kiss your boo-boo to make it better?" She replied sarcastically.

She heard Smith muffle a laugh. She looked at the burn.

"You're in luck, I got all the pieces of fabric out."

She smeared the premix paste onto a bandage and applied it to the wound. Leckie breathed a sigh of relief as it soothed the burn. The paste was a mixture of ointments, Vaseline oil, iodoform, paraffin-wax, and gypsum.

"You'll stay here for the remainder of the day. You should be up and on your feet in a few days," she informed him.

"Thanks, Doc," he replied as she laid back on the cot.

"You're welcome. Smith, you should head back out. Find Captain Jameson and tell him to come see me so I can update him on the situation."

"Yes ma'am," he said in his smooth southern accent.

She left them behind and kept working. This was her first surge of patients here. It felt like she was falling back into step to her job before she joined the Marines. She didn't take the time to think as she moved from Marine to Marine.

Captain Jameson did come by, nearly four hours after she sent Smith to relay the message. Either Smith took much longer to 'find' him or Jameson took his sweet time getting here, either way she was pissed.

"Captain Jameson, thank you for coming by," she said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, yes, why did you ask to see me?" He asked bored.

"I thought that maybe you'd want to know the status of your men, why there are so many _not_ out there, sir," she answered as politely as she possibly could. Captain Jameson looked at her with an annoyed expression. "Many of the men received minor second-degree burns on their skin."

"If it's minor than they should be out there," he countered.

Eleanor inhaled deeply to keep herself calm. "Sir," her voice was dangerously low, "unless you want their wounds to get infected and most definitely taking them out of commission, I suggest you allow them the proper time to heal."

"Well, it's a _good thing_ I don't have to listen to your suggestions, _Lieutenant_ ," he replied in an equally low voice. "I expect you to be out there with your platoons _now!_ "

Only Leckie remained. Eleanor watched with flared nostrils as nine out of the ten men that came in cringed and slowly walked out.

"Private, I believe I gave you an order," he barked at Leckie. A few of the men stopped to watch the unfolding scene.

"Sir, Private Leckie's leg was burned. He could barely walk," she countered. "I ordered him to remain here."

" _You_ don't have that kind of authority, Thompson. If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be here. Leckie, get up off that cot or I'll have you thrown in the brig," Jameson threatened.

Eleanor felt an unstoppable fury as Leckie started to move off the cot.

 _Deep breath, Eleanor._

"Sir, you can send them back to training, after all you are the man in charge. Which is why I wanted to have these men take a break today, that way they could heal properly, avoid infection. How would it look if ten men, an _entire_ squad, were taken out _before_ we even ship out?" she said in a sweet voice. "I'd hate for the Company and the Skipper to be embarrassed, sir."

If he thought he could bully her, he was messing with the wrong girl.

There was a quiet moment before Jameson finally looked at the group of men still standing in the entrance. He seemed to be contemplating what she was said. But, if she'd observed him correctly, she knew she had won.

"You men are to stay here for the rest of the day," he conceded.

Eleanor bit back her victorious smile.

"You will be back tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," they all replied in unison. The men came back in the station. Jameson cast a small glare her way before exiting the sick bay.

She couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"How did you manage to convince him?" Leckie asked from the bed beside her.

"It's all about knowing your audience, Leckie," she replied. "Lewis, why don't we take this time to do some more training?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The men were looking at her with a degree of respect she'd never seen them give her before. She didn't know, but what she proved was that she had their backs and that she could handle herself. In reality, Eleanor did it because it was her job.

* * *

 **The last bit I learnt from reading Helmet For My Pillow, Robert Leckie's memoir. It's been helping me quite a bit fill in some gaps the series doesn't show (namely training). I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know!**


	3. I'll Get By

As the next few weeks went by, Eleanor fell into an easier routine. For the most part, the men had warmed up to her. It was certainly making her life easier, at least among the enlisted men. Military rules made nurses ranking officers. One of the reasons was because it was the only way to get people to listen to them. But Eleanor did not feel like an officer. Most of the others dismissed her like she was just another enlisted man. This, she found, made it easier for the men to relate to her.

Eleanor was spending some of her much needed break time alone in her tent. For the last few days, she spent a lot of time with the enlisted men. She was getting to know them better. Well, those who would talk to her like an actual human being. She found herself often with heavy weapons, perhaps it was because they, like her, were not with any platoon in particular.

That night, Eleanor donned her Summer Service Uniform, mostly known as khakis. Her uniform was still that of the Navy Nurses Corps, the Marines didn't have a proper dress uniform for her yet. For the first time in months, she was leaving the base. Normally, she kept to herself on weekends off, she spent them mostly catching up on sleep and studying. This time, however, Runner managed to convince her to come out to the bar.

She put on her red lipstick, a bit of make up, her hair was curled and styled for the first time in a month. She looked like herself again, and it felt wonderful. She was happy to temporarily step out of the part of the nurse. Tonight, she was simply Eleanor Thompson, with of course the exception of her uniform. And did she ever look good.

The bar, by the time she got there, was full. She'd come on her own and quickly searched for Wilbur Conley. She found him. He spotted her and waved her over.

"Lieutenant," he beckoned her over.

A few turned to look her way.

"Hey there doll," one Marine called out when he saw her. Attention seemed to turn her all at once.

 _Oh no… this was a mistake._

"Are you all expecting a show?" She asked sarcastically.

There was some cheering. She should just turn around and leave. She knew what men could be when they were lonely and drunk.

 _Get over yourself. You did not make yourself look this good to go back to base now. You haven't been out in weeks._

"Then go somewhere else, because you're not getting it from me," she replied.

Then they booed. Eleanor rolled her eyes and then started walking towards the table.

Conley, Jurgens, Leckie, and Smith were sitting at the table. She slipped into the chair next to Conley and across from Jurgens. There was a beer in front of the empty chair for her.

"Sorry about the delay. Takes a while to look this good," she joked.

"Glad you could make it."

"Officer's Club get too boring? That why you're slumming it with us?" Jurgens asked.

"Would you believe me if I said I've only ever been once?" She retorted.

Normally, officers didn't go to the bar with enlisted men, but like she said, Eleanor did not consider herself an officer in any way but title. She may as well be a Private, the lowest ranking and she would probably still get treated the same. Though, her officer status did give her a certain, for lack of a better word, protection. She was still 'above' them. This was another reason nurses were given rank, though many argued it was because the officers wanted to keep the nurses all to themselves, as there were strict rules against relationships between enlisted men and officers.

"What, that ain't your style?" Smith spoke up.

"Considering the way Jameson talks to her, I'd say so," Leckie answered for her.

Eleanor shrugged, he wasn't wrong. She took a drink from her glass. It was so desperately needed.

"So, Lieutenant, what does bring a girl like you to the Marines?" Jurgens asked.

"Getting right to it, huh?" She joked. She put her glass down on the table. She should've expected the question. "They asked. I came. No other reason to it. And before you ask: no, I don't know why all the sudden Uncle Sam decided to send a nurse to the frontline."

She was getting tired of constantly repeating herself. Why couldn't they just accept that she was here?

"Ain't you worried?" Smith asked.

"Worried?"

"What the Japs'll do to you if they catch you," he specified.

She knew what he was talking about. She'd be foolish if she didn't know. Eleanor looked him right in the eyes.

"No," she lied. She tried to make herself sound nonchalant, but Eleanor was terrified of what could happen. She was scared of dying, of course, but that was not the worst thing that could happen to her and she knew it. Still, in front of these men who were already looking down on her, she had to hide her fear.

 _You're a performer, Eleanor. You're doing what you do best._

"Are you worried about what they'll do to you?" She added the last bit to slightly antagonize Hoosier.

He stared at her for a tense moment. She took a small disliking to Bill Smith. She didn't like being talked to like a child, especially not from a man who did not know her. She never liked being dismissed.

"War ain't a place for a woman," he pestered on.

"War ain't much a place for anyone," she replied as politely as possible.

"It's fact, a woman can't fight, shoot, or handle it like men can," he continued on.

Okay, now she was just getting mad.

"Considering that women have been putting up with you, I don't believe you know what women can and can't handle," she spoke. "Fighting, shooting… I've seen you shoot, Private Smith, I'd be shocked if you actually managed to hit the target."

Conley snorted a laugh.

"Furthermore, I don't need to fight. My job is to make sure that you _don't die_ when the Japs inevitably start shooting at you. And I don't know about the rest of you, but I certainly would not want make an enemy of the person who's going to be the one risking their necks to save yours," she added. "But hey, what would I know? I'm a woman after all… Thank you for inviting me, Conley, but I see now that it was a mistake."

Eleanor got up from the table and gave Conley a few dollars for her drink. It was too much money, but she had to get out of there.

She walked out of the bar, graceful and elegant, a clever mask to disguise her annoyance and anger. Eleanor never wanted this, but she doubted any of them wanted it either. She did not like being told what she should do, and she'd be damned if she let some southern pretty boy do it.

She walked out into the chilled night, the stars shined brightly overhead.

"Lieutenant Thompson."

She turned around to see Conley coming after her.

"I'm sorry about Hoosier. He's a mean drunk," Conley explained. "He shouldn't've talked to you like that."

"But you don't disagree with him, do you?" She pressed, hopeful that she was wrong.

Conley didn't say anything. She huffed disappointed.

"That's what I thought."

"It's not about you… it's just… we're supposed to be the ones protecting you, not have you out there with us."

She scoffed. "I'm capable of taking care of myself. Contrary to what you might think, Conley, I'm only here to do my job and then get back to my life. My story is the same as the rest of yours."

Well, maybe not entirely the same thing.

"These are desperate times, Private Conley, and desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm here, get over it."

And with that, she walked away.

* * *

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Lucky asked after Runner got up from the table and ran after her. Hoosier didn't get why he cared so much.

Hoosier shrugged and took another drink. "I didn't say nothing we weren't already thinking."

"You coulda been nicer about it," he continued to chastise.

"Why all the sudden you got a soft spot? You sweet on her, Lucky?" Chuckler asked.

"She's nice. And you shoulda seen her go up against Jameson. She's smart. You guys saw how she ran after me when my pants were on fire. Hoosier, you saw her in the aid station," Lucky responded.

Hoosier took another drink. He'd seen her move from person to person, it was one of the reasons that he stayed in the tent as long as he did. He was curious. Still didn't change the fact that out there, she didn't belong. If a woman wanted to help, she should work at a hospital far off the line, or work in a factory. How were they going to do their jobs with her around?

"I saw it. Don't mean nothing," he continued.

Runner returned a little bit later.

"Good job, jackass," he scolded.

"Why'd you even invite her in the first place?" Chuckler asked.

Runner shrugged. "She's nice, thought maybe she could use a friend or two."

"Friend? You're getting soft Bud," Chuckler teased.

"If she's here, might as well make friends," Runner replied. "Think it's about time we get over it."

Hoosier scoffed and took a drink from his mug.

* * *

Stupid men.

Eleanor got back to her tent, mentally cursing out Conley, Smith, and all men.

She thought things would be better now, but she would never be a part of them. She fooled herself into thinking she would.

Eleanor sat on her cot, tears springing in her eyes. Her loneliness was overwhelming her.

Smith was right. War was no place for her, but she was still going to do it. She reached under the pillow and pulled out the small stuffed doll. She had yellow yarn for hair and a white lacy dress. Eleanor pressed the doll to her chest and sobbed.

That doll. That was why she joined the Navy Nurse Corps. It was why she gave up on her dreams of becoming a star and finished school to become a nurse instead. She did it all for her Violet. Her little girl. She did it all so that Violet would have a better chance.

 _I'm so sorry._

She lied to get here. There were no jobs after she finished her program, so she made the choice to join the Navy Nurse Corps. She had no other choice. Violet deserved a better life, and Eleanor was going to give it to her. The doll, named Polly, Eleanor made it for her for Violet's first birthday. Before Eleanor left, her daughter gave her Polly because she was crying. Her reasoning is that she always hugged Polly when she was upset. She kept the doll close. It was her lifeline.

" _Remember Violet, momma loves you."_

" _To the moon and back," Violet replied routinely._

She was a mother. That was why she was fighting so hard to stay. This was the way to get a better life. Private Bill Smith be damned.

" _Remember that everything I do is for you, sweetheart."_

She hadn't seen her daughter since she joined the Marines four months ago. It was breaking her heart to be away.

 _Everything I do is for you._

She would do this. She will go to the belly of the beast for Violet. She would do anything for her.

* * *

 **I have been so excited about this reveal since I started writing Eleanor's story. It brings in something new that I haven't explored in a character too much. Eleanor is a complicated character that I'm discovering new things about her with every new scene that I write. I hope you liked it!**

 **Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I hope you're all enjoying the story. There is so much to come.**


	4. Harbour Lights

_June 1942 – Manhattan, New York_

"So tell me Ellie, how is it being around those rough and tough Marines all day?" Anna Murphy asked.

Anna had bright curly red hair and emerald green eyes, her face covered in freckles. She was taller than Eleanor. Growing up, Anna had always been awkward in her own skin. It wasn't until they got older that she gained confidence.

They sat in a café both in their uniforms, both on leave, Anna for a week, Eleanor for the weekend. They grew up in the same orphanage. Anna was Eleanor's sister in any way but blood. She was a few years older, which meant she was always protective over Eleanor. Anna was the one who convinced her to go to school to become a nurse when they first moved to New York. _Always have a back up plan, sweetie._

"They're fine," she shrugged.

"Just fine? Any of them catch your eye?" Anna asked.

Eleanor thought about Bill 'Hoosier' Smith and scoffed. "Please. They're stinky, foul-mouthed... Some of them are annoying as hell."

"Being around them has certainly made _you_ foul-mouthed. What would Sister Agnes say?" Anna teased.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and got back to the point.

"No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in their eyes. I mean you should see some of them. One man, goes by _Hoosier_ , is so condescending when he speaks to me. The way they look at me, the way they belittle to me, it's like they think I'm a child playing soldier," she explained in frustration.

"They're men, Ellie. You know as well as I do that men like women to be seen and not heard. They're terrified that we won't go back into our boxes after all this is over. We've got the vote, what more could we possibly want?" Anna asked sarcastically.

"And some of them… Annie, they're kids. My other corpsman is eighteen. One Marine I met is _seventeen_. They should be going to high school football games, or going to college, not fighting in a war," she continued.

"Boys go to war to become men," Anna added.

"Then where do girls go?" Eleanor questioned. "What war do we fight to become women?"

"Honey, our entire existence is a war against oppression."

"I see you've been listening to the spinsters again," she teased. Anna had always been outspoken about her political feminist beliefs. She had a great admiration for the women who chose to remain single in order to get their own self-fulfillment. Anna had decided to follow in their path and never get married.

"Those women know what they're talking about."

"So, oh great wise one, what should I do? How do I get them to start seeing me as one of them?" Eleanor asked. Anna was the one she would always go to for advice.

Anna laughed. "They will never see you as one of them. Just keep doing your job, honey, and they'll eventually come around. Never forget _why_ you're doing it," Anna advised.

"She's what is getting me through the day."

"Are you going to see her before you ship out?"

Eleanor shook her head and looked down at her now cold cup of coffee. "I don't think I could leave. It was hard enough doing it the first time."

Anna looked at her sadly.

"It's lonely… feels like no one is on my side, except you of course."

"I'm always on your side," she agreed with a smile. "But I think I might know someone who can understand better."

Eleanor looked at her curiously.

"There was a girl in the hospital I'm stationed at, about a week ago she left. I heard the Head Surgeon and the Chief Nurse talking… apparently, she was plucked to join the Airborne," Anna explained.

"She… She's like me then," Eleanor deduced.

"That's what it looks like," she replied.

"What's her name?"

"Claire Rousseau."

"What is she like?" Eleanor asked.

"Honestly, I don't know her very well. She was quiet, kept to herself," Anna explained.

There was someone else like her, someone who understood what she was going through.

"When do you leave?" Anna asked.

"In about a week," she replied.

"Are you scared?"

Eleanor nodded. She never could lie to Anna. She was terrified and questioned her sanity at least once an hour.

"But I know I'm doing this for the right reasons," Eleanor spoke. "Pretending I'm not terrified… my greatest role yet."

"You always were a great actress. You know, when men show weakness it's women who remain the strong ones."

"The morale boosters," she continued. "I can do it."

"All I ask is to be safe, Ellie," Anna said. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Have you met me, Annie?"

"Yes I have, that's why I'm worried," she replied. "Violet needs you, and so do I." Eleanor smiled at her surrogate sister. "I have something for you."

Anna pulled out a small box from her purse and handed it to her.

"Annie, you didn't…"

"Just open it."

Eleanor opened the box to reveal a silver cross.

"Annie… it's beautiful."

"Just a little bit of extra protection."

"I'm coming back," Eleanor assured.

Anna nodded unconvincingly. They were both terrified of the future.

"I promise," Eleanor added. "I love you Annie."

"I love you too, Ellie."

* * *

 _San Francisco – July 1942_

"Okay, leg wound, Lewis, where do you start?" Eleanor asked the young corpsman.

They'd been in San Francisco about two weeks. They left New River and took a train across the country. This was their last stop before the eventual send off to battle. They were practicing on the deck of the ship they were staying in.

"Um… first I… assess the wound," he stated.

"You've assessed, now what?"

"Tie a tourniquet."

"Okay, the wound is here," she pointed to a spot on Leckie's thigh.

"Normally, when a girl puts her hand there, I gotta buy her dinner," Leckie joked. He volunteered to help her with a field exercise for Lewis.

"Luckily for you, I buy my own dinners," she replied.

Leckie was a nice fellow. He didn't seem to care much that she was a woman. Neither did the men who saw her stand up against Jameson.

Lewis tied the tourniquet tightly.

"Then what?" She asked.

"Bandage it. Then, if he hasn't lost too much blood I can give him morphine. But not if the wound's not bad," he explained.

"And why not?" She asked.

"Because he could go into shock."

"Good. Say you're alone, how would you get Leckie back to the aid station?" Eleanor quizzed.

"First, call for someone to come help. But if there's no one, drag him."

"If there is someone, what's the best to lift him?" She asked.

"Chair lift."

"And why?"

"Because it won't aggravate the wound," he answered.

"I think he's got it," Eleanor told Leckie. She undid the tourniquet around Leckie's thigh. "Thanks for the help."

"Anytime," he replied with a smile. She helped him up to his feet.

Leckie walked back to his barracks on the ship.

"I didn't want to be a corpsman," Lewis admitted when Leckie was out of sight. "Actually, that was pretty much the last thing I wanted… too much on one person."

"I understand that."

"But then you started taking the time to actually teach me all this stuff and you know, I'm okay with it. You're a good teacher," he told her. "Thank you."

"You're welcome Lewis," she responded.

 _Just keep doing your job._

"I mean it. I'm glad you're here… makes it a little less scary."

"Don't let the others hear you," Eleanor joked, "You'll never hear the end of it."

"Let them say whatever they want," he shrugged. "My pop left when I was a kid. It was just me and my mom. She's the strongest person I know. I don't care about you being a woman. I did at first, but not now. The rest of the guys, they'll get over it."

Eleanor gave a small smile to the boy. Anna was right. Proving herself would come so long as she keeps doing her job.

Lewis went back to his quarters. Eleanor stayed up on deck a little while longer. She found a nice little corner where she could have some moments of piece and quiet. The sun was beginning to set behind the hills. This time, Eleanor was not given her own quarters. There wasn't enough room. Instead, she was bunking with Lieutenant Corrigan, Lieutenant Jones, and Lieutenant Wilson. They were all with H/2/1 which meant Eleanor knew them. The only thing that divided them was a sheet around her bunk that acted as a curtain.

"Lieutenant Thompson?"

Eleanor looked over her shoulder to see Conley.

"Yes?"

"Could I have a word?" He asked.

"What is it?"

"I just… I wanted to apologize for what happened back at the bar," he answered. "The things I said, it wasn't fair to you."

"Conley, I understand your misgivings towards me. A woman here… This isn't something that's been done before," she assured.

"I want you to know that I invited you to join us that night because I wanted to. Thought maybe you could use a friend," he explained.

Eleanor was torn being annoyed and flattered. She didn't want people taking pity on her, but Conley was extending the olive branch.

"Thank you, Conley."

"And what Hoosier said…"

"Everyone is allowed to have their own opinion," she shrugged. "Even if they're wrong."

"I get the feeling you and I will get along just fine," Conley joked. "The other guys'll come around."

She'd been hearing that a lot lately.

"If not, I'll just have to show 'em that I'm more than just a pretty face that needs saving," she replied.

* * *

 _August 1942 – Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean._

Like every Monday for the past few Eleanor was in the sick bay. Today had been a relatively quiet day, it helped that there was less alcohol on board, which meant little drunken scuffles. Well, she liked to think so. She did deal with fighting injuries, but those were because they'd been stuck in closed quarters for so long.

As if on cue, there was a knock at her door as Conley was helping Jurgens in. The taller man was bleeding from below his eye. His right eye was swelling and bruised. His lip bled too. It dribbled down his chin.

"Jesus. Put him here, Conley," Eleanor told him pointing to the cot.

"You should see the other guy," Jurgens joked as he got on the bed.

"Thanks Lieutenant," Conley said.

"No problem. I've got it from here. He'll be out of here in no time," she replied. Conley left the sick bay.

Eleanor wet a piece of cloth and started dabbing at the cut under Jurgens' eye.

"So, you gonna tell me what you were fighting about?" She asked.

"When do Marines ever need a reason to fight?" Jurgens replied.

"Everyone has a reason," she shrugged. "What was it?"

"You," he answered not looking at her.

She gave him a strange look. "Me?"

"Some guys from Dog Company were saying some stuff."

"But… you don't even like me?" She said confused. "Why would you go and do that?"

Eleanor was speechless.

"Lucky and Runner've taken a shine to you. Guessing you're not all bad. Lucky doesn't like anybody," Jurgens added.

"Thank you?" She turned around to grab some gauze to bandage up his hand.

"We're about to go into battle. You're right, it'll be better if I don't piss off the woman who might be the one saving my ass down the line."

"How mature of you," she complimented. "I wish the others would follow you."

"They do," he said. "Hoosier's the one that threw the first punch."

This was a surprise.

"What? Why?"

He shrugged.

"You're H 2/1," he stated simply. "We look out for each other."

Eleanor was touched by the statement.

"You're all done here," she said.

"Thanks," he said as he hoped off the bed and started to walk out of the room.

"Jurgens," she called after him. He turned around. "Thank you."

He gave a small smile and nodded before walking out.

After months of constant passive-aggressive comments, they finally accepted the fact that she was not going anywhere. It would feel triumphant if they weren't about to go off to war.

Eleanor thought about what Jurgens told her. Bill Smith threw the first punch. She huffed and realized what she should do. Despite all their disputes, it was her job to take care of them. She grabbed one of the aid kits. She wasn't allowed to go down to the enlisted men's barracks, but Eleanor was never any good at following rules.

The men's barracks below deck were crowded to a point where moving around was nearly impossible. Eleanor pushed her way through the masses of men, feeling pinches on her butt. She couldn't see who was doing it, precisely why they were getting away with it.

She found H Company. Leckie and Conley were playing cards on the bottom bunk. They looked up.

"Where's Smith?" She asked.

Leckie pointed up.

"Thanks."

Eleanor climbed up the side of the bunks. Smith was, of course, at the very top. He couldn't make it easy for her? He was lying down in his cot when she reached the top. She could see that one eye was already swollen shut. There was a dark bruise on his jaw and his knuckles were all cut up.

He noticed her with his good eye and jumped.

"What the Hell?" He stated as she finally lifted herself up so she was sitting on the very edge of his bunk.

"You look awful," she told him flatly. "Let me take a look."

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" She asked as she held out two fingers.

"Stop movin' and I'd know."

Eleanor huffed. "You've got a concussion. Let me take a look."

"That an order?" He asked.

"Does it need to be?" She replied. Finally, Smith huffed and sat up as much as he could.

She started patching him up. "This would be better if we were in the infirmary."

He groaned as she dabbed the cut on his lip.

"It was stupid what you did," she told him. "I'm not worth fighting over."

"You are awfully full of yourself," Smith scoffed.

Eleanor gave him an odd look.

"Jurgens told me…"

"Asshole was blocking my way," he interrupted.

Eleanor should've expected this answer, but part of her was still hopeful that they were turning over a new leaf.

"Look, I know you don't like me. Quite frankly, I'm not a big fan of yours either," Eleanor started, "but we're going to war. Can we just… call a truce?"

It was painful to even say the words.

"A truce?" Smith replied incredulously.

"Yes. We don't have to be friends, just tolerate each other."

"You're askin' me to play nice."

"If you want to think of it that way, yes, I am."

Smith remained silent for a beat.

"Fine," he declared. He held out his hand. "Truce?"

Eleanor grasped his hand. "Truce."

* * *

 **I am so sorry for the delay! I have been swamped with schoolwork, I'm barely functioning as a human being at the moment. I am working on this story bit by bit but the updates will probably be very slow from here until April.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter and the small tie-in to All This Hell, there are a few more little moments like that that I have planned. Let me know!**


	5. Say A Prayer For The Boys

' _Dear Lieutenant Rousseau,_

 _You don't know me, but my name is Eleanor Thompson. Like you, I was chosen to go to the very frontline. I've been with the Marines for a few months and let me tell you, it has been a daunting task, though I'm sure you're experiencing much the same in the Airborne. We are on our way to the front now, I cannot tell you where –even if I was allowed, they have yet to tell us._

 _I hope you don't mind my writing to you. When my friend, Anna Murphy, told me about a girl from her hospital being plucked to fight, I had to reach out. Perhaps then we could both feel a little less alone._

 _Who would've thought? Women heading off with men to fight the war. What a time we live in. When I joined, I never expected this. I'm not sure what the future will bring, but at least I know I'm doing the right thing._

 _I do hope that you make it. I hope that your unit treats you well. I know how lonely it can be in our position. Please know that you always have a friend in the Marines._

 _All the best,_

 _Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson.'_

When she finally finished the letter, after days of rewriting, Eleanor stuck it in the envelop and wrote Claire Rousseau's name down. She put it with the pile of other mail that would be returning to the States once they were dropped off into battle.

She sat on the deck in a spot she'd come to claim as her own. She could spend hours there getting the fresh air, which was helpful since below deck, she got nauseous. Eleanor had never been on a boat for this long. She went on a yacht once when she was young and stupid, but that was the only time before she'd been on a boat. She was getting a little stir crazy. The belly of the ship was claustrophobic.

She enjoyed the fresh sea air. The sound of birds cawing in the distance, and the water smacking on the sides as the boat cut through the water. It was peaceful up here. It gave her time to think.

Today she thought about the conversation she had with Jameson the day before. It wasn't so much a conversation as it was a battle of wills. Jameson wanted Eleanor to cut her hair. Eleanor refused.

" _The Japs'll see that you're a woman and they'll rape you,"_ he warned.

" _Sir, I don't think my hair is my only defining marker as a woman. I will have it tied and tucked away, but I will not cut it,"_ she replied.

" _That is an order, Lieutenant,"_ he snapped.

" _Sir, if you find in the regulations and restrictions regarding proper length of a woman's hair, then I'll cut it myself,"_ she contradicted. _"However, as I know there is none, I'm afraid that I will not."_

Jameson's nostrils flared. _"I could have you thrown in the brig. I could have you court-martialed."_

" _If that's what pleases you, sir,"_ she replied in the same calm and levelled tone she used.

" _I will not tolerate this insubordinate behaviour!"_ Their argument was garnering a lot of attention from nearby Marines.

" _Captain Jameson,"_ this time it was Hugh Corrigan who spoke up. _"If she choses not to cut her hair, shouldn't that be her risk?"_

She'd been surprised that Lieutenant Corrigan had come to her defense. Eventually, Jameson conceded and Eleanor compromised to never let her hair down and to wear her helmet at all times. Her hair was not that long to begin with. It sat just below her shoulders.

Jameson, Eleanor realized, was not a man of conviction. He backed down too easily. Made for a poor leader in her opinion. At least in the end she'd won. She got to keep her hair. It was stupid, but her hair had always been the one thing Eleanor loved about her appearance. She was already sacrificing a lot by being here, she would not completely lose her femininity by being here. It was shallow but she didn't care. She had always been vain when it came to her looks.

She knew the day was coming soon. They said they were about two days out. There was no avoiding battle. Last night, after sending the letter, Eleanor did the thing she'd been dreading. She wrote her will. Though she promised Anna she'd return, Eleanor wasn't sure this was a promise she could keep. If anything happened to her, Anna was the one she wanted taking care of Violet. All her money was to be stored away until Violet reached eighteen. She did everything she could to make sure Violet would be alright in the end.

A little further down the way, Eleanor spotted the young Sidney Phillips. They had not spoken much since their encounter at the aid station in New River. She could his hands clasped together and his head down in prayer.

Eleanor quietly stepped around him to head back down into the belly of the ship.

"Lieutenant Thompson?"

She turned around to see Phillips looking at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your prayers," she told him.

"It's alright, I was done anyway."

"What were you praying for? If you don't mind my asking," Eleanor questioned.

"Pray for the things we all pray for," he shrugged. "I pray that my family stays safe, that I make it back to them… Do you pray?"

"Every day. But I don't go to church as much as I used to."

Eleanor had been raised to believe in God, but that relationship was strained. She didn't think God could love her. Still, she carried the cross around her neck on her dog tags and prayed.

"My parents took me every Sunday," Phillips replied. "I remember some days being bored to tears."

"Growing up, I used to have to go once a day," Eleanor recounted.

"Every day?" Phillips asked. "You a preacher's daughter or something?"

"Not quite. But I didn't mind all that much. I got to sing in the choir," Eleanor recounted.

She loved to sing, and dance, and perform. Any chance she got, she'd take it.

"But every day?" He repeated.

She shrugged. "Never knew anything different. That was my normal."

"But you don't go to church anymore?" He questioned.

"I do… you don't need to go to church to feel close to God," she replied.

Not that she believed He was listening.

"It's dinner time, Phillips. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get some chow before it's all gone," she said.

"Are you scared?" Phillips asked her.

"Terrified," she admitted. Normally she would've lied, but she opted not to. "Are you?"

"I dunno… I should be, right?"

She stared at the young red headed boy and realized just how naïve he was, just how naïve they all were. Most of them weren't even alive at the time of the last war. Eleanor was born in September 1917, she obviously had no memories of the last war, but she had memories of the aftermath. She remembered one man in particular. He was an old drunk who often fell asleep in front of the cemetery. Eleanor remembered seeing him every morning on the walk to school. When he was awake, he mumbled constantly about Belleau Wood.

" _Why is he like that, Sister Isabelle?" Eleanor asked the nun who walked her and the other girls to the museum for a field trip. Eleanor always like Sister Isabelle. She was younger than the others and she was kind. On their birthdays Sister Isabelle always gave the birthday girl an extra cookie._

" _He sees ghosts," she explained._

" _Why?" The ever curious Eleanor asked._

" _Because, sweet child, war can break even the strongest man."_

"I can't tell you how to feel, Phillips," she shrugged. She felt a maternal protectiveness over him, just as she did for Lewis. Perhaps it was because they were both so young and naïve.

"Guess it don't feel real yet," he continued. "At least not to me."

"If you tell anyone what I told you, I will personally throw you off this boat," she threatened.

Phillips laughed.

"I might be small but I pack a mean punch."

He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"I believe it," Phillips told her.

"Where you from, Phillips?" She asked.

"Mobile, Alabama, ma'am."

"Long way from home, huh?"

"We all are… I've never been this far away."

"That why you were so eager to join?" Eleanor asked. "Hoping for adventure while doing your patriotic duty? Why not wait?"

He got a serious look in his eye. "I took it personal when the Japs blew up Pearl Harbor. They attacked us, killed thousands of our guys… I couldn't stand by while others die for me."

He was noble, Eleanor realized. Nobility was a trait she admired, but she never saw it in herself.

"Why'd you join?" He asked her. "The truth, not the stuff you told me back in New River."

 _The truth?_ She could never tell him real truth about why she was here.

"I couldn't find a job," she explained. It was at least a partial truth. "A lot of hospitals tend to have students do the work instead of hiring nurses because it's free. It was either join the Military or starve."

"I didn't know… I'd'a thought nurses were guaranteed a job," he stated.

"Yeah, so did I," she replied. "Damn Depression."

"I was one'a the lucky ones, I guess. Didn't hit us hard," Sidney stated.

"Lucky is right."

She didn't say how unlucky he was now. How unlucky they all were.

* * *

 _August 7_ _th_ _1942_

The day had finally come. Yesterday, they were told they were going to some island called Guadalkennel… Guadalkernel? Didn't matter. She was going to war, and suddenly it all felt incredibly real.

She was in the sick bay getting the supplies. God, she couldn't wait to get off this stupid boat. She could hardly hear herself think.

"Are you ready?" Lewis asked.

"Yeah," she answered honestly. She felt like she could do this. The doll in her pocket would give her the courage she needed. "Are you?"

"As much as I can be," he replied.

Eleanor looked at the nervous young boy and comfortingly put her hand on his shoulder. She had no words of wisdom for him. Lewis was her closest friend here. It made sense since they spent so much time together. She was protective over him, but she didn't want to promise him he'd make it.

"I hear there are oranges down at the mess."

He smiled brightly at that.

"I'll see you before ship off."

And with that he grabbed his supplies and headed out. Eleanor laughed, he honestly was like a puppy. It made her worry about him more.

The food today looked more like a last meal. Meat with potatoes, gravy, oranges for dessert. Once all the enlisted men got their meal, Eleanor dug through the scores of men and grabbed her own meal.

"Lieutenant, over here!" She heard Conley over the crowd of people. She pushed through the crowds until finally reaching the table where Conley, Leckie, Jurgens, Smith, and Gibson were already sitting.

Eleanor took a seat next to Jurgens.

"Hey, hey Lieutenant Thompson!" Conley greeted.

"A lot of Marines to feed! Let's go! Let's go!" She could hear Lieutenant Corrigan urge.

"The Japs'll still be there when I'm done my dinner," Eleanor grumbled under her breath as she ate her food.

"Today's the day, Marines!"

 _Today's the day._

Sidney Phillips arrived with an armful of oranges. He dropped them on the table. Everyone greedily grabbed one. Eleanor, being a split second too slow missed them.

"Thompson, heads up."

Surprisingly enough it was Smith who tossed her the orange across the table.

"Make sure you save one of those for me. Worked hard for those oranges," Phillips spoke up.

"I can't wait to get off this goddamn rust bucket!" Conley exclaimed. "Can't even hear myself think."

The men were in close barracks that seemed to her almost inhumane. Meanwhile she had much larger quarters, though she did share them with some of the officers from H 2/1, she couldn't compare the situations.

"At least they give a good send off," Jurgens shrugged.

"Yeah, like the electric chair," Smith said.

"Hey, just look on the bright side, you've just won a vacation to the one and only… Guadalkernel?" Eleanor stumbled on the name of the island.

"Guadalkennel?" Phillips asked.

"Whatever it's called, you guys are lucky I'm here. I'm gonna take out an entire Jap regiment all by myself," Jurgens declared as he slammed his fork full of potatoes on the table. Eleanor got a bit of potato on her cheek. She cringed as she wiped it off.

"How exactly do you plan on doing that?" Eleanor asked.

"Line 'em up and mow 'em down, a real turkey shoot."

"Alright there, Sergeant York, you go ahead and try that. I think it's gonna be a little harder than that," she replied.

"Nah, gonna be a turkey shoot."

"What are we doing here again?" Gibson asked.

Honestly, Eleanor didn't know. She listened as the boys threw out suggestions: they were to keep the Japanese out of Australia, keep them back in Japan, free up shipping lanes… but there was not one concluding answer.

"Stop, stop, stop, Professor Leckie, enlighten us," Conley said.

"Wanna know why were here?" He asked. "Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen but his country's cause."

Eleanor smiled slightly at the Homer quote. Leckie was right, there was not specific reason they were here, other than that's where they were ordered to go.

The boys on the other hand, they thought it was bullshit.

"Let's move Marines, go, go, go!"

Suddenly, they were being ushered out. Quickly, they all geared up and met on deck. Eleanor kept her hair pinned as the helmet rested somewhat comfortably on her head. She tuned out the Skipper's 'inspirational' speech and chose to focus on her own inner turmoil instead. She was trying to keep herself calm, but her heart felt like it was climbing up her throat as the anxiety knotted her stomach.

The time had come and Jameson had stopped talking. Eleanor spotted Lewis across the way and gave him, what she hoped was, a reassuring nod. They would be on two separate boats. She told Lewis to go among the last and she would go ahead. This way, if there were casualties right off the bat, there would be someone there first. It was out of her character to go first, but she was protective over Lewis.

She reached the daunting net that she had to climb down to get to the Higgins boat. She hesitated for a moment, remembering her worries from the train.

 _Have I made a mistake?_

Then she thought about Violet. That was when she pushed herself to climb over.

 _Hands on the vertical. Feet on the horizontal._

She took a deep breath as she started climbing down. She looked up at the sky to see planes flying overhead. Finally, she landed in the LCVP. She was with heavy weapons, as per usual. She stood at the back, being one of the last to board. Conley and Smith were at the back too. The entire boat knelt down to give them more protection.

She felt nauseous as the anxiety riddled her bones. Her hands were shaking. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. Her hands gripped around the cross she had stuck on her dog tags.

 _Our Father,_

 _Who are't in Heaven,_

 _Hallowed be thy name._

 _Thy kingdom come._

 _Thy will be done._

 _On Earth as it is in Heaven._

 _Give us this day our daily bread,_

 _And forgive us our trespasses._

 _As we forgive those who trespass against us._

 _And lead us not into temptation,_

 _But deliver us from Evil._

 _Amen._

 _Please God, let me make it through the day._

She looked back up and saw Conley looking at her. She gave a reassuring nod to say that she was okay.

She took a deep breath as the shaking in her hands ceased.

"I could really use a stiff one about now," Conley stated.

"I know a great place in Manhattan," she replied.

"You got first round."

"Deal," she said.

After a nerve wracking and never ending ride, they'd hit the beach. The ramp swung down and they started charging out. Eleanor pushed herself up and followed the rest of her men out of the boat.

She expected there to be bullets flying, mortars and bombs going off. She did not expect the beach to be full of lounging GI's.

"What the…?" She questioned.

"Hey, we're you been? Welcome to Guadalcanal," she heard a Marine call from the beach.

"Keep on moving."

Yeah, this was not what she was expecting coming into war.

Jurgens was trying to break open a coconut. Conley was practically asleep on the ground. Leckie was eating an orange and sharing it with Phillips. Eleanor sat on a fallen tree and basked in the sunlight, her helmet still on her head. The heat was sweltering and she already felt beads of sweat forming and rolling down her back.

If war was like this all the time, she'd come out of it with one hell of a tan.

"What should I do now?" Jurgens asked as he revealed his still unopened coconut.

"Use a machete or a rock?" Eleanor offered.

"Try your head, it's big and rock like," Conley chimed in from the ground.

"If it makes you feel any better, Corporal Dobson said the Japs might've poisoned the coconuts," Lewis added as he strolled by.

Sweet naïve Lewis.

"They poisoned a billion coconuts?" Conley asked sarcastically. Lewis shrugged and nodded.

"Lewis, don't ever change," Eleanor replied.

"Oh shit, my hand!" A Marine yelped from down the way. Eleanor stood up but Lewis looked at her.

"I got it."

She didn't complain as she sat back on the log.

"Intelligence says the japs moved into the jungle. Clean the sand out of your weapons. We move in three minutes," Corrigan ordered the troops.

"Think we'll see any monkeys in there?" Eleanor asked Leckie.

"Probably a lot more bugs."

* * *

 **I am so sorry for the almost month long wait! As soon as school is done, I'll definitely be able to update more frequently. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know!**


	6. Goodnight Children Everywhere

Walking through the dense jungle on Guadalcanal, Eleanor, for some reason or another, kept thinking about a song from the musical _Everybody's Welcome_.

' _A kiss is still a kiss. A sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply as time goes by.'_

Eleanor loved that musical. She'd never gotten the chance to see it, but _As Time Goes By_ was one of her favorite songs. She'd first heard it at a record shop in Manhattan. Back when she was eighteen and moved to LA, she sang that song in her very first audition. She ended up getting the part but as far as she knew, the film never actually saw the light of day. They'd filmed it all, but it was never released.

It was a welcomed distraction from the tense atmosphere around her. The forest itself was beautiful but it held that dark uncertainty that made her uneasy.

In front of her, Gibson tumbled to the ground and cursed.

"Gibson, you okay?" She asked as she helped him back up. She gave him the once over but found no injuries.

"Yeah, I'm good."

They kept on their way. Eleanor was closer to the front, falling right on Leckie's heels through the dense jungle. She smacked her neck a few times from mosquitoes. She should've taken her atabrine before disembarking. Her pack was uncomfortable on her back. She was sweating buckets, hating the long sleeves of her dungarees.

The song in her head immediately stopped upon the grizzly sight of dead American GI's. They were not just dead; their corpses were mutilated. Their tongues and male appendages were cut out and stuffed in their hands of their mouths. A few were decapitated. Corrigan stood there and urged them to keep moving. Eleanor, driven by some outside force, broke away from the group and went towards Corrigan.

"Doc, better keep moving, nothing you can do here," Corrigan told her.

"We can at least cover the bodies, Lieutenant."

Show some kind of common decency.

Corrigan nodded as Eleanor walked over to the first body. He was still wearing his pack. Eleanor pulled out the blanket and covered the Marine.

 _I'm sorry,_ she said.

She repeated the process until they were all covered.

Corrigan was still there.

"Good?" He asked

"Yeah."

They went back on the trail.

Eleanor started digging her foxhole with Lewis. They were digging in on some hillside. She was grateful for the break. Her muscles ached.

"Think it's deep enough?" She asked.

"Um... yeah, I think so."

"Good enough for me," she shrugged and stuck her shovel in the ground. "Thank you for helping."

"If I'd let you do it alone, you'd be digging until tomorrow morning," he responded.

"You're not wrong. Go on, get some rest," she told him. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," he said before he went off to his own foxhole.

* * *

She jumped in and set herself up for the night. Lewis had already dug his with Stevens from 3rd Platoon. Eleanor was told before disembarking that she would not share a foxhole with anyone. Captain Jameson didn't trust having people of the opposite sex sharing a foxhole… even though she'd been sharing a cabin with Lieutenant Corrigan, Lieutenant Kelly, Lieutenant James, and Lieutenant Leroy for the past two months. Apparently, officers were more 'trust worthy'. Considering how often she felt Lieutenant Kelly's hand on her backside, she thought that assumption was pure bullshit. Now, Eleanor was alone in a foxhole without anyone to watch her back. Would she be getting any sleep tonight? The answer is no.

Even if she wasn't alone, Eleanor doubted she would've slept anyway. As soon as the sun went out, it started pouring rain. Thunder roared through the sky. She covered herself with the rain poncho. She leaned back against the muddy wall and sighed deeply. Her hand instinctively went over her chest where Polly stayed. She took a deep breath to try and keep her fear at bay. She thought about the nights when Violet couldn't sleep right away. Which happened to also be every night. She used to sing her daughter to sleep. Violet's favorite song was by Doris Day.

' _Say nighty-night and kiss me._

 _Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me._

 _While I'm alone and blue as can be,_

 _Dream a little dream of me.'_

A few tears pricked her eyes. It had been so long since she last saw Violet. She kept hoping and praying that Violet hadn't forgotten about her.

 _Dream of me_. _I will see you again._

"Jap! Take cover!" Someone yelled.

Then the gun shots started. It sounded like they were coming from right next to her.

Over the loud bangs, Eleanor heard a body fall to the ground right in front of her foxhole. The Japanese soldier was coming for her.

Eleanor poked her head up out of curiosity. To her horror, she didn't see a Japanese solider.

"CEASE FIRE!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. "CEASE FIRE!"

Lewis was lying on the ground, reaching out towards her. She could see the blood dripping from his lips.

"LEWIS!" She yelled.

"STAY IN YOUR HOLES!" She heard someone else bark.

The bullets stopped and Eleanor grabbed her bag then climbed out of her foxhole as fast as she possibly could.

"Lewis, just hold on, okay?" She pleaded as she flipped the boy over. Despite the dark, she saw the red spreading across his uniform. She could see that his eyes were closed.

A flashlight illuminated her.

"Doc, doc, what can I do?" Lieutenant Corrigan asked.

She reached in her bag and tossed him some bandages.

"Try to stop the bleeding!" she barked.

But his eyes were closed.

"Lewis?" She asked desperately. She put her head down so his ear was close to his mouth.

He wasn't breathing.

"Lewis? C'mon kid!" She pleaded. His face was covered in blood from a gash on his cheek. She reached in her pack and grabbed another bandage. She opened the pack and then pressed it to his cheek. "We have to stop the bleeding."

Deep down, she knew that wasn't going to be enough.

"Doc," Corrigan said. "Doc…"

Eleanor looked down and saw Corrigan's blood stained hands as he gave her a dejected look.

"No," she said firmly. She bit back the tears that were threatening to fall.

There was nothing they could do. Lewis was gone.

* * *

The next morning, Eleanor sat beside Conley and watched while they dug Lewis's grave. Last night, Lewis went out to take a piss but he got mistaken for a Japanese soldier on his way back. Whether or not he said the password didn't matter, he still was killed by his own men.

She didn't speak a word. She didn't cry. She kept thinking about his mother.

"Eighteen," she muttered.

"What?" Conley asked.

"He was eighteen."

They were moving out again. She walked in step with Heavy Weapons. She kept herself from crying.

 _Just like being on stage._

It was like having to hide her emotions from Violet. Over the years, she'd gotten very good at it. Lewis was her first friend here. He was sweet and naïve. He should've been back home, instead he was on some spec of dirt no one had even heard of. He died here, so far away from the people that loved him. Eleanor couldn't imagine a worst fate.

They walked up a hill until they were overlooking their objective, the airfield. This time, Eleanor didn't have help to dig her foxhole. She began digging alone. Her hole was going to be in the middle, that way if she needed to get anywhere quick, she could.

From what she could see in the distance, the Fifth Marines took the airfield. She saw giant warships on the horizon. She didn't pay them much mind as she dug her hole.

"Son of a bitch," she cursed under her breath as her muscles strained to dig her foxhole.

"Need some help?" She looked up to see Jurgens crouched there.

She thought about telling him to piss off, but she had to get it done.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied.

Jurgens got in the hole and started to dig.

"I'm sorry about Lewis," he said after a few moments of silence.

"Why are you sorry to me?" She asked.

"You guys were friends…" Jurgens began explaining before Eleanor cut him off.

"Don't be sorry to me. Be sorry to his mother. She's the one who lost her son," she snapped harshly. She looked and saw the look of guilt on Jurgens's face. "I'm sorry Jurgens. That was rude of me… I'm really not in the mood for talking. I don't want to think about it. I just want to get this fucking foxhole finished."

Jurgens nodded and kept digging.

* * *

That night, Eleanor couldn't sleep again. She could hear the rumble of the naval battle in the distance. Around her, she heard the men cheering quietly. They believed it was the American ships who were winning.

Alone in her isolated foxhole, Eleanor let a few tears fall for her friend.

It had not been American ships that won the battle. The next morning, when they left their position on the hill and went down to the beach, all she saw was the debris. The Japanese Navy had taken out a couple of American ships, enough to scare the rest away. All their supplies went with it. They were told to stay here for the night.

"Dig in, Marines."

And once again, Eleanor went to dig another foxhole. That seemed to be what she spent most of her time doing. But this time, she realized she wasn't alone. Corrigan was helping her.

"What're you doing?" She asked.

"Helping," he replied.

"Uh-huh…" She noticed his pack on the edge of the foxhole. "Why's your stuff there?"

"Skipper agreed to revoke the rule of no sleeping in a foxhole with the men."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" She asked.

"For now, you're the company's only corpsman," he responded. "Ain't safe for you to be alone."

"How charming. Coming to my rescue. My knight in kaki armor," she said sarcastically. "Let me guess, only officers can share a foxhole with me?"

"Look, it's for your own good."

Now she was getting pissed off.

"Yeah because all the officers are so damn pure. Not like Kelly's hand hasn't mysteriously found my rear on more than one occasion," she snapped.

"Fine, you want to share a foxhole with an enlisted man, be my guest," Corrigan replied exasperated.

"Why is it always you playing the mediator?" Eleanor asked.

"Because it does no one any good for you to argue with the Skipper constantly. And it also does no one good if you keep getting belittled," he explained. "You're a stubborn ass woman, but you know what you're doing."

Eleanor didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered. She was a healthy combination of both.

"As always, Lieutenant Corrigan, it's been a great pleasure talking to you, but I'm going to kindly ask you to leave me alone."

The last thing she wanted was to share a foxhole with Lieutenant Corrigan.

She looked over and saw Sidney Phillips not too far away digging with two other soldiers.

"Phillips, mind coming over here?" She asked.

Sidney came over in an instant. Corrigan took his shovel and then headed out.

"What can I do for you?" Sidney asked.

"Look, I could use someone I trust to watch my back," she told him. "And I'll watch yours too."

"Thought you weren't allowed?" Sidney asked.

"Lewis is dead," she replied flatly. "I'm the only corpsman. That rule is gone."

"Alright," he said. "let's dig in."

* * *

 **It's short, I know, but I always figured that it's story flow over length.**

 **Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter. I love that you are enjoying Eleanor's story because I love Eleanor as a character. Because Eleanor is such an artistic and musical character, every chapter I've written has been named after a song from that era. If it interests you, I can create a playlist of all the music I reference or songs that I listen to while writing this story.**

 **I was surprised that Dream A Little Dream was made before the Mama Cass version but the original song was from the 30s and recorded by Doris Day.**

 **Please let me know what you thought! I love hearing from you.**


	7. Crazy He Calls Me

She did her round to make sure everyone was still okay. Mostly, what she saw were scared kids. For three days, nothing. And now they were stranded without the navy, which meant no supplies.

All day they dug and waited. She read and did rounds. She counted every bandage she had twice. She had Lewis's pack with her. They had enough medical supplies that she wasn't all that concerned. Then again, she hasn't had to use them.

Eleanor walked past Leckie and Jurgens' set up with the machine gun. Conley, Smith, and Phillips were there too. Sidney was taking a drink from a bottle of alcohol.

"Lieutenant Thompson," Jurgens called out. "Want some Jap wine left behind?"

She looked at the group of men in front of her.

"It tastes like donkey piss," Smith stated. "Ain't awful."

"I don't know what's more concerning about that sentence, the fact that you're saying you've tasted donkey piss or that donkey piss isn't that bad," she replied.

"So you're not having any?"

"Oh no, I am," she replied. She could use a drink… or ten.

Eleanor sat down in the sand and leaned on the sand bags. Sidney passed her the bottle. She took a swig and gagged at the taste. It was much too sweet for her liking. It felt like she was sucking on alcoholic candy.

"Jesus Christ."

She took another swig.

It was better than nothing.

"Smoking lights out!" Someone declared from down the line.

"Smoking lights out!" Jurgens passed along the message.

"Thanks for wine gentlemen," she said as she handed the bottle back and walked away. They were in blackout conditions which meant no smoking, no talking, nothing.

Sharing the foxhole with Sidney did lower her stress level significantly. He said he'd stay awake first which meant Eleanor actually managed to fall asleep for a little bit. She trusted Sidney Phillips, he was one of the few she did.

She was woken up by a bright light. Instinctively, Eleanor went forward to the other side of the foxhole and remained crouched, ready to spring in action if she needed to. She surprised herself at her courage. They hadn't seen true battle yet; she didn't know how she'd react there. But already, she lost her friend.

Sidney had crawled back over to where the mortar squad was.

"They're just trying to spot our positions, hold your fire," she heard Corrigan instruct the men in a loud whisper.

Eleanor exhaled but she didn't move from her spot. The light flashed in her eyes once more.

Stay still. Don't move.

Well, her two hours of sleep would have to be enough to get her through the next day.

* * *

They could see the Japanese battleships in the distance. Thousands of them. It felt like they had the entire island surrounded.

They moved to a new position on the Tenaru River. It was quickly renamed Alligator Creek because of the animal that lived in the water. They kept off the shore as to not antagonize the gators. They couldn't see any because of the intense heat. The back of her neck and her face burnt in the sun. In the long sleeved dungarees, her arms were protected, but the heat was unbearable. Eleanor rolled her up to her elbow, subsequently burning her forearms too. There was no winning situation here.

This time, Conley and Eleanor were sharing a foxhole. They weren't too far away from Smith.

 _Dearest Annie,_

 _How are you? How is Africa? Is it warm there?_

 _It's hotter than Hell here. It reminds me of the time we hopped on a bus to New York City and went to Coney Island. I remember standing by the Ferris Wheel, the sun beating down on us. I remember the sweat dripping down my back. I remember that you got hungry. We didn't have anymore money, so I tossed a hat and started singing and dancing._

 _That was when we decided to stay. You decided to become a nurse, and I was going to be some big star… How things have changed. I never thought I'd be out in some war surrounded by marines…_

 _It wasn't what I thought it would be. War, for the most part, has been mostly sitting around and waiting. Had I known that, I would've brought another book. Ha ha._

 _But the horrors of war have not escaped me. I lost a friend two days ago. Do you remember that boy I told you about? The other corpsman? One night, he went out of his foxhole to go to the latrine but when he came back, the others got jumpy, thought he was a Jap and shot him. I tried to wash the blood away, but it's still stained beneath my nails. He was eighteen. I keep thinking that I want to write to his mother, but I don't know how to tell her that her son died because others got spooked._

 _Despite that, the jungle is beautiful. I keep hoping I see a monkey, but Robert Leckie, another marine and a sort of friend, keeps telling me they are not native to these parts. Mostly, I've seen birds and bugs. Mosquitos have been an issue. I hope there aren't too many infected with malaria…_

"A Company's made contact three miles east," Corrigan announced as he swaggered by their foxhole. "Get rid of any letters with dates or addresses."

He looked right at her, eyeing the piece of paper in her hand. She had not dated the letter yet.

Eleanor folded the unfinished letter and tucked it away in her front pocket.

The light began to fade and Eleanor's anxiety came back. A Company had made contact which meant that any moment now there could be an attack. She thought back to the thousands of ships on the horizon.

"What about Queenie?" She heard Conley ask her.

"What?" Eleanor replied.

"We've been trying to figure out what to call you. Because Lieutenant Thompson sounds too formal for a friend," Conley explained.

"Conley, you do understand what my position here is, right? You get that if I don't have some kind of authority, no one will listen to me?" She asked.

"You don't need authority," Conley replied. "You need _respect_. That's how you get them to listen to you. We're friends, I'll listen to you. So will Lucky, Chuckler, Hoosier, Phillips."

"Phillips doesn't have a nickname," Eleanor pointed out.

"Lucky calls him Johnny Red."

"Queenie doesn't fit," she replied. Having friends would make this a whole lot less lonely. She'd lost Lewis already and it broke her heart.

"I guess we'll have to figure it out."

Growing up, the other girls at St. Mary's orphanage normally called her Clouds because they said her head was too often in the clouds, because she had dreams of grandeur. They weren't exactly the most creative bunch. Anna always told her not to care about what all the others thought.

 _You gotta fight for what you want in this world, Ellie._

She spent every day fighting to achieve her dreams, but those never happened. She never got the fame or the chance to be Clara Bow. But her life wasn't so bad.

"What high school did you go to?" Runner asked making conversation.

Eleanor froze. She didn't go to high school. She was taught in the orphanage. She left when she was sixteen to move to New York City.

"St. Mary's," Eleanor answered.

"Hm… I don't remember that one," he replied.

"That's because it wasn't a school," she answered.

Eleanor wasn't so sure why she didn't talk about it. It wasn't a secret. She wasn't embarrassed by it. But she kept it to herself.

"You're talkin' about the orphanage, huh?" Conley… Runner deduced.

She nodded. "I grew up there."

Maybe the reason she kept it to herself was to avoid the look of pity currently on his face.

"Quit looking at me like that," she told him. "I'm not some charity case."

"What happened to your folks?" He asked.

Eleanor shrugged. "Dad, I never knew him. I think he's dead… who knows. My ma… I barely remember her."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? I grew up just fine."

Blackout conditions went into effect as the sun went down. Eleanor's nerves once again shot up.

Conley… Runner, she would get used to calling him by the nickname, slept soundly beside her. She couldn't sleep at all. Instead, she looked up at the stars.

 _Be Thou my vision, Oh lord of my heart._

 _Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art._

 _Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,_

 _Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light._

Of the few memories she had of her mother, they were always filled with music. The old Irish hymn was the only way Eleanor could get to sleep when she was a girl. At St. Mary's, she used to hum it before going to sleep. She still did on occasion. But now, she used it as a coping mechanism for her anxiety. An attack was coming. She needed to be ready.

* * *

"There's movement."

The moment she heard it, she tensed.

She heard the rustling of the bushes.

And then the bullets.

 _SHIT_.

Eleanor's eyes met Runner's. She allowed herself to be terrified for five seconds.

 _Five._

 _Four._

 _Three._

 _Two._

 _One._

"CORPSMAN!"

The bullets were tearing above her head. She crawled over the side of the foxhole and into the fire.

"CORPSMAN!"

 _I'm coming!_

The adrenaline courses throughout her veins.

Eleanor covered her head as the bullets tore above.

 _Go Eleanor._

She kept crawling until for a moment she could get up and run. She zig zagged down the line towards the call.

 _Jesus._

 _Fuck._

 _Shit._

Every time a bullet flew by, she let out another curse word.

She made it to the call. It was a private from third platoon, Anderson. The kid had been shot in the side.

He was crying out in pain.

"You're gonna be okay, sweetheart," she assured him.

"CORPSMAN!" Another call came.

"CORPSMAN!" And another.

"CORPSMAN!" Another.

 _Jesus fuck. I_ _'m one person._

Eleanor pulled the bandage out of her pack and then pressed it to his side. More bullets fired overhead.

"Shit!"

She had to get him someplace safe.

 _God help me._

She moved to grab him by the collar and then dragged him. She pulled him into the nearest foxhole.

"CORPSMAN!"

She grabbed Anderson's hand and pressed it on the bandage covering his wound. She wrote up the tag and stuck it to his jacket.

"Keep the pressure on here. I'll be right back," she promised. "You keep holding on."

She left Anderson behind and ran to the other call.

Once again, her heart pounded as she weaved through the battlefield. Along the way, she crossed paths with Leckie and Jurgens who were running with the machine gun.

The next wounded was Reynolds from second. Bill Smith was pressing on the wound. Reynolds's leg was practically hanging on by a thread. She knew he would lose it.

"Keep pressure up here."

Smith moved his hands. "The fuck took you so long!"

Eleanor ignored him as she applied a tourniquet above the wound. She covered the gaping wound as best she could and then stuck him with morphine.

"CORPSMAN!"

"Shit!" She cursed. "Help me drag him out of the line of fire!"

Smith nodded.

"CORPSMAN!"

 _I'm coming. I'm coming_.

They dragged Reynolds to the closest cover made by sandbags. She wrote his tag quickly and stuck it on his nearly unconscious body. To their surprise, they found the Skipper quivering in the darkness.

"Skipper! Are you okay?" She asked as they put Reynolds behind the cover.

He said nothing as he whimpered. She walked over and tried to spot a wound but found nothing. Captain Jameson had simply lost it.

"Smith, get back on the line," she ordered.

"CORPSMAN!"

Eleanor took another look at Reynolds. He was still breathing.

She couldn't stop. There was one corpsman and who knows how many wounded.

Eleanor did not stop despite the haze of bullets. She could hear the sounds of explosions as the mortars landed on their targets. This was nothing like training. No matter how many simulations they ran, it would never compare to actually being shot at. The human race never stopped in coming up with new ways and reasons to kill each other.

Of course at that moment, Eleanor didn't contemplate such things. In fact, in that moment, she cursed out every Japanese soldier. She moved from marine to marine until finally, the shooting stopped. She could see the pinks and reds as dawn started to break.

After the battle, a few corpsmen from the aid station came to help.

By the end, when she saw that finally she had help, Eleanor ran back over to Anderson.

She found him still leaned up against the tree, but his hand had slipped away from his wound. His eyes were still open. His chest, still and unmoving. Eleanor knelt next to his body, knowing what she would find, but she had to make sure.

She was too late.

 _I'm sorry._

Eleanor closed his eyes and removed one of his dog tags.

It was one thing to have someone die under her hands. That was horrible. It something else entirely different to be the reason someone died. She should've made sure that he was stable before she left him. She should've been faster.

She moved over to lie his body down and then covered it with his blanket.

Eleanor heard footsteps coming behind her. She looked up to see Leckie standing there.

"Leckie, what can I do for you?" She asked.

"Lieutenant Corrigan wants to see you."

She did not want to talk to Hugh Corrigan right now. But she had to.

There were hundreds of dead bodies littering the beach. The smell was dreadful. They don't talk about this in movies, but when a person dies, their bowels and bladder release. It was even worst because of the sweltering heat. Death is not as glamorous as Hollywood makes it seem.

 _Dying is a dreadful business._

She found Corrigan crouched by the bank. He was with Captain Jameson, who was still shaking. Around her, marines and the corpsmen from the aid station were walking among the scores of dead.

"Doc, we got a live one," a marine called out when he saw her.

"I got it," another corpsman declared from next to her.

She continued on her way towards Corrigan.

He got up when he saw her approach.

"He's lost it," Corrigan told her. "I need you to confirm so we can have him relieved."

"Yes, sir," she said. She approached Jameson.

Then, there was an explosion. And then gunfire started once more.

Jameson paled once more and began quivering again. She looked up at Corrigan.

"Confirmed! Get him out," she stated before running off.

There were only a few Japanese soldiers came bellowing out. Leckie and Jurgen's machine gun began popping off again. Eleanor watched as the attacking soldiers were gunned down. All but one. The remaining soldier was shot in the shoulder, his rifle tumbled to the ground. He began to wail. He took off his helmet and threw it to the ground. He'd surrendered to his fate.

The other men in her company began throwing things at him and shouting obscene things. A few would shoot around him or hit his arms. The soldier stepped into the creek, wading through the water.

She watched the scene with a disgusted fascination as they kept taunting him. It was like he was a toy and the marines were bored children looking for entertainment.

 _Just end it, already!_

And then a shot rang and struck the soldier in the chest. He slumped in the water dead.

Eleanor looked over to where the shot had come from and saw Leckie standing on the bank with his pistol raised.

"Hey! What the hell was that?" A marine called out.

Mercy. He was showing mercy.

Leckie looked over and saw her standing there. She gave him a small nod, telling him that he'd done the right thing.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed it! I only have three more weeks of school and a mountain of homework but then I'm free to write. Let me know what you thought!**


	8. Bless 'em All

Including Anderson, they lost seven men. About ten more had been wounded. Captain Jameson was thankfully relieved and Corrigan was temporarily put in his place. She carried wounded man after wounded man.

She stayed around the aid station and helped. She worked at triaging for the ones who needed to be shipped to field hospitals miles away from the front line. Almost all the men she treated on the battlefield made it. Only Anderson didn't.

Before she joined the Navy Nurse Corps, back when she was in school, she trained to be a surgical nurse. She supposed that was one of the reasons she was chosen for this position. She worked at stitching up a wound on the face of a soldier. She'd stabilized his other wounds on his leg and shoulder. He whimpered with every stitch.

"Please... it hurts."

The soldier was a boy. There was no doubt about it. When she left looked at him she saw Lewis lying on the ground covered in blood.

"You're gonna be ok, sweetheart," she assured him. He was still whimpering. Eleanor began humming _Dream a Little Dream of Me_. When Violet was upset or sick or to get her to sleep, this was the only way to calm her down or lull her to sleep. It seemed to work as he kept the whimpering down.

When she made it back to Alligator Creek, her dungarees and her hands were stained with blood. Nearly all the wounded had started being evacuated to the rear. She found Leckie, Jurgens, Smith, Phillips, and Runner all sitting in the foxhole. They took one look at her and Smith held out another bottle of the Japanese wine.

"You look like shit," he told her.

She took a sip of the wine. She definitely needed it.

"You sure know how to flatter a girl. What'd I miss?" She asked.

"Been quiet," Jurgens said.

"Lew's now a corporal," Runner declared.

Eleanor smiled at him and then passed Jurgens the bottle. "Hey, congratulations, Jurgens."

"Why thank you, ma'am," he said in a light tone before taking a drink.

Their first real taste of war and they survived.

She pictured Violet once more.

 _One day closer to seeing you._

* * *

Eleanor was crouched by a creek. She started scrubbing the dried blood on her hands. She took a deep breath.

 _Keep it together._

She smacked the back of her neck as the mosquitoes bit her. The cool creek water felt good on her sun burnt skin. In the shade, the temperature was more bearable.

"I will never complain about Chicago summers again," she said. It was a prayer she sent above. She hoped that God would let her have another sweltering Chicago summer. Or a Manhattan summer… anything really.

The sun's rays that peaked through the trees and shined on the flowing water. The trees were a bright green and vines hanging off. She could hear birds around her. It was beautiful. Despite the bugs, the heat, and the fear… it was beautiful. However, the blood that now came off her hands tainted the clear water.

They moved on from Alligator Creek and deeper into the jungle. They pulled one of the corpsmen from the aid station to replace Lewis. He introduced himself as Stern but everyone calls him Red.

It was a relief to have someone else. One corpsman for over a hundred men was impossible.

War was mostly sitting around and waiting between fights. She wrote letters, read, and played cards with the boys. Her dungarees became more ratted as the days passed. She'd kept her sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

That first battle, and all the battles that came after that made her see the absolute worst in humanity. But small acts reminded her there was still hope that humanity wasn't lost. She saw that in Leckie, Jurgens, Runner, Phillips, and even Smith. In the beauty and devastation stood single pillars of love and kindness, and Eleanor was holding onto that like a child held onto their favorite toy.

* * *

 _A few weeks later._

Eleanor felt the barrel of the rifle on her back before she heard it. Her hands, which had been frantically trying to stop the bleeding on a marine's leg, went up as soon as she heard the click of a bullet sliding into place.

She heard the soldier speaking Japanese.

Shit.

How did they get so far away from the rest of the Company?

"Nurse," she tried to communicate.

The soldier didn't seem to get it as he began speaking frantically once more. The rifle poked once more at her back.

She could feel the frightened tears prick her eyes.

"I'm a nurse."

Still nothing.

"Please," she begged. "Please."

 _I have a daughter._

Her hands were shaking.

Be brave.

Be brave, Eleanor.

She looked back at the bleeding marine was looking at her with pain and fear filled eyes. She had to do something. She couldn't roll over and die. She closed her own eyes.

Five seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four -

There was a shot. Eleanor waited for the pain or maybe a bright white light or something, but there was nothing. She did, however, feel blood splash on the back of her neck. There was ringing in her ears from the sound of the gunshot. She looked back momentarily to see Jurgens, Runner, and Smith looking at her.

For a moment, a wave of nausea passed her. She had a gun to her back. Then she snapped back into it and went back to helping the bleeding marine. She finished tying off the bandage.

"Don't just stand there," she barked at the three others. "Help me get him back!"

The three of them snapped to out of it and ran over to help her carry the wounded man back.

"Careful with the leg Chuckler!" She chastised and Jurgens grabbed the fallen marine and his hand pushed directly on the wound and the man spasmed.

"Shit! Sorry," he said to his fellow marine.

They ran back to the aid station. The marine was whimpering as they got him to a table. It wasn't until the four of them were leaving the aid station that she even began to realize what had just happened.

She pictured her little girl.

She stopped walking. Suddenly unable to move her own feet.

"Tommy?" Runner asked.

"Tommy?" Both she and Smith replied at once.

"What?"

Suddenly, she started to giggle uncontrollably.

"Seriously? _Tommy?_ " She replied. "Like the gun?"

"Hey, I like it," Runner defended.

"Well, you sure spite insults like a Tommy gun spits bullets," Smith replied.

And so, she became Tommy.

Eleanor allowed herself to walk back to camp with them.

"How did you know I was out there?" She asked them.

"You were behind our line," Smith told her. "Jap must've walked in."

"Still doesn't explain how you found me. In case you haven't realized, the line ain't exactly small."

"Runner saw you run that way," Smith explained. "You didn't come back so we went looking."

She had a small smile on her lips. She was touched by them doing that.

"Thank you," she said. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

She didn't want to think about the hot barrel of the gun pressing against her back. Once more, her hands began shaking. She needed to do something to calm herself down. She began to reach in her bag.

"You lookin' for a smoke?" Smith asked as he watched her frantically dig in her bag.

She grinned as her hands locked around it. She pulled out the tube of lipstick and the compact mirror she had. And then she opened it and then her tube of bright red lipstick and began to apply it.

She looked up to see all three men staring at her.

"What?"

"You're putting on lipstick in the jungle?" Smith questioned.

"What? Would you rather I put it on on the beach? You smoke, I put on lipstick. We all have our hobbies," she stated before putting the lipstick back in her bag.

She felt better with it on. Like she was that girl back in Manhattan on stage performing. It was her comfort blanket. It was her way of getting back into character.

 _One Hell of an actress you are, Eleanor Thompson._

"There. Come along boys. We have to get back," she declared striding ahead of them.

* * *

"Step right up and get your atabrine!" Eleanor exclaimed as she started passing around doses. She had her helmet off, the rule of her leaving it on all the time left when Jameson did.

"C'mon, Lieutenant, that shit's disgusting," Gibson complained as she handed him the .2 milligrams of the anti-malaria medication.

"Trust me, malaria is much worst," she argued. Though part of her wasn't sure. Some marines were coming down with horrible side-effects from the medication. However, orders were orders and until she was told about a different medication or dosage, she'd make sure her men got them.

More groans came. Red was looking at some of the sores that had been neglected from marines.

They'd been on Guadalcanal a month and already Eleanor had almost died once by a Japanese soldier. She'd already had guys bleed out an die under her hands. She'd lost a friend, and the war had just begun.

The past month she'd ceased to become 'that woman' and she was simply Lieutenant Thompson or Tommy. She'd even started calling Robert Leckie 'Lucky'. When replacements could finally get in and fill the depleting ranks, the men where quick to come to her defense when comments were made about her –especially those in Heavy Weapons since that's who she hung out with the most.

Though, the biggest change in the month came from the small pistol Eleanor now carried. It became abundantly clear in those first few days that the Japanese did not respect the Geneva Conventions. In fact, there was a rumour going around that a bounty had been placed on the heads of medics and corpsmen alike. She didn't know how true this was, but quickly she was armed. She kept the small red cross on her uniform but it was so small she didn't think, well hoped, the Japs wouldn't be able to spot it.

She could hear a large number of marines marching by. She looked up and the first thing she noticed was the famed Chesty Puller, he was in charge of the Seventh Marine Division. All the men coming in were in spotless dungarees and didn't look nearly as drained or exhausted at they did.

"It's the Seventh all dressed up for Sunday School," Lucky chirped as they walked by.

"Hey, y'all forget to set an alarm clock?" Someone else yelled.

"Yeah, where you been?" Runner asked.

"Up with the sun in Samoa, screwin' your girlfriend," one of the men from the Seventh chirped back.

"I got a girlfriend? Lucky me!" Smith called back.

"Filthy, just like you are," another Seventh marine said.

Eleanor rolled her eyes at the men.

"Hey, Colonel Puller, where're you headed?" Runner asked the old man with a pipe sticking out of his mouth.

"Tokyo, care to join us?" Colonel Puller said as he pointed forward.

 _Tokyo, that's one Hell of a far walk._

"It's quite a ways. Write us when you get there," Runner replied.

"Step aside, the real marines are here now," a third Seventh marine declared.

She kept her head down until that point. These guys hadn't been here long. They didn't know what kind of horrors lie in the jungle.

"Yeah, we landed here a month ago!" She joined in the chirping. She noticed how many of their heads turned at the sound of a female voice. She put on her best and most charming smile as waved at them. "Welcome to the war, fellas."

"Keep it moving, marines!" A lieutenant yelled. She got a few catcalls and a few kisses blown her way.

As soon as they were out of sight, her smile dropped from her lips.

 _Welcome to the war._

* * *

 **I am so sorry for the delay! I'm done school now (yay) so I'm on summer vacation. I do hope you all enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Also, shameless self promotion here but... I am currently in film school, and the main reason I couldn't update frequently was because I made a film! I wrote, directed, produced, edited, did the cinematography for it all on my own. I'm incredibly proud with how it turned out. I've posted the link if you would like to check it out.**

 **w w w. youtube watch?v=sD2-6re_oBs &t=12s**

 **Okay, self promotion over. Please let me know what you thought of the chapter!**


	9. Blues In The Night

_A week later_

"… best wishes, father," Lucky read his letter. They were gathered around in a semi-circle, enjoying the very limited time they would get before moving again. Now that supplies were coming in, mail was coming in too. It was customary to read letters from home in front of others. Those who hadn't received letters could get some familiarity and a sense of home from other marines.

"PS. Your mother would like to know if you would like her to send you your dress blue uniform… Must think we get a lot of fancy parties out here," Lucky joked.

"If there are, can I be your date?" Runner asked, a smoke hanging out of his mouth.

"You are ugly. I want Hoosier," Lucky replied.

"Take a number," Smith said as he finished cleaning off his bayonet.

"Aw, don't let them get you down, Runner, you can be my date," Eleanor said and gave him a wink. And then both of them started laughing.

"Hey, Tommy, it's your turn," Lucky stated. Eleanor had received two letters. The one from Anna she'd stuck in her pocket. Anna was in North Africa. She hadn't told Eleanor she was going until it was too late for her to convince her otherwise.

The other letter was from a girl she had never met but had more in common with at that moment than most others. This one she knew she could read out loud.

"This is from another nurse like me. She's with the Airborne," Eleanor explained as she took the paper out of the envelop.

"Dear Lieutenant Thompson,

Thank you for writing to me. I had no idea there were other's like me, women in the fray alongside men. I know for myself it's been hard gaining the respect and loyalty of my men, though, I believe that now I have achieved it. I can imagine it was or is the same for you.

It's strange, I don't know if you feel the same way but I feel as though I was meant to do this. Some days… a few more than I care to admit, I begin to doubt myself. I doubt my abilities. Those are moments when I question 'Have I made a mistake?' but when I look at the men and when I think about the good I can do I remember why I joined.

I hope that someday, when all this is over, we can meet. I hope you make it through this war. Know that you have a friend in the Airborne.

We girls must stick together.

Best wishes,

Lieutenant Claire Rousseau."

Eleanor finished reading the letter from her new friend and felt a sense of dread wash over her.

"She seems nice," Runner said as Eleanor folded the letter back in her pocket.

"She's noble," Eleanor stated. _Noble gets you killed._ She didn't say that out loud. "Good, I guess… One of us needs to be… Sid, it's your turn."

The younger man seemed to snap back to it and looked at the envelop in his hands.

"This one's from my buddy back in Mobile," Sidney said. He began reading the letter out loud. His friend, Eugene Sledge, wrote about how he hoped the letter would make it to him before his birthday. He talked about how different things were back home now that the war effort has taken over. She hadn't even thought about that. The war extended beyond the confines of Guadalcanal, it stretched all the way home.

"Truth is, you're the lucky one, Sid. You'll never have that feeling that you're letting your family and your country down," Sidney read, "that's what I'm afraid of."

Eleanor remembered the amount of boys they were forced to turn away at the recruitment office. Her hospital was used to conduct medical evaluations on new recruits. When she had to declare one of them 4-F, quite a few pleaded for her to make an exception.

Why would anyone _want_ to come here?

 _You said yes._

But that wasn't because she wanted to come out here. That was because she wanted to get the money to buy Violet a better life.

"We're moving out!" Lieutenant Kelly yelled.

Reluctantly, they gathered up their things. Eleanor had the pistol strapped to her side. She had yet to take it out of the holder but she felt better knowing it was there. The whole 'going into the fray without anything to defend yourself' thing was not a rule she liked. She understood why it existed, but clearly out here, the rules didn't matter.

Eleanor looked over at Sid as he finished off the letter.

"Your friend wants to be a marine, huh?" Lucky deduced.

"Yeah, but his father won't let him. He's got a heart murmur," Sidney explained.

"Guess he's gotta miss out on on all this glamour. They sure don't make maggot rice quite the same back home," she joked morbidly. Sidney laughed.

"When's your birthday?" Smith asked.

"Couple weeks ago," Sidney answered.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eleanor asked.

"Ain't like I was expecting a cake or nothin'."

"How old are you now?" Runner asked.

"Eighteen."

Still too damn young.

Smith, a cigarette lazily dangling from his lips, held out a golden grenade.

"Happy birthday," he said. Then he began singing the birthday song, everyone soon joining in. They were cautious not to be too loud.

"...how fucked are you now? How fucked are you now? You're surely fucked now," Smith added at the end.

They were incredibly fucked.

* * *

Later, Eleanor went and found Sidney. She'd dug through her pack until she came across something she could give him. Back at New River, Eleanor decided the moment Sidney walked into the aid station with a twisted ankle that she would look out for him. He was sweet and kind. She thought of him as the little brother she never had.

She found him sitting on a log patching up a hole in his shirt. He was struggling to thread the needle. He huffed in frustration and looked about ready to give up. She knew his shirt was littered with tears.

"Hand it over," she said as she took a seat on the log next to him.

Sid gave her the shirt and the needle. Eleanor stuck a bit of the thread in her mouth and threaded the needle.

"How d'you do that?" Sid asked.

"Years and years of practice, and many pricked fingers," she said. "So, eighteen years old."

"Yeah…"

"When I was eighteen, I was well..."

She ended up pregnant.

Sidney was looking at her expecting her to reveal something about her past.

"I was in LA," she stated. She didn't elaborate. He looked like he wanted to ask more. She started talking so he wouldn't get the chance. "Are you feeling older?" The question was something a mother would say, she'd outdone herself.

"Not really," he answered. "Feel the same."

"Eighteen… Old enough to fight in a war, but not old enough to vote. Weird age. Then again, my gender only got the right to vote about twenty years ago…" She drifted off.

"Old enough to fight, old enough to die," he muttered under his breath.

Eleanor stiffened. She did not want to think about him dying, or any of them.

She started stitching the shirt. Sidney was watching her do it. She stopped stitching partway through.

"Now that you're eighteen, it would be about time for you to know how to patch up your own shirt," she told him. "Watch what I do for this one, then you try the next one."

Sidney nodded.

Eleanor began explaining to him everything she did as she stitched the hole in Phillip's shirt.

When it was time to pass it to him, Eleanor watched as he fumbled with the needle. He was huffing in frustration and cursing as he pricked his finger. Eleanor helped by talking him through. By then end, there was a mess of loose stitches.

"Not bad for your first time," she assured him.

"You seeing what I'm seein'?" He asked.

"No one gets it perfect on the first try. It took me time, practice, and nuns smacking my hand with a ruler to get it right," she explained.

"You know, one'a these days you're gonna tell me all about what life was before all this," he replied.

"Uh-huh, whatever you say," she said. "Just keep practicing and you'll get it."

She then reached in her pocket and pulled out the unopened pack of Lucky Strikes and the chocolate bar from her pocket. She handed them to him.

"Happy birthday, Sidney," she said. She pointed to the pack of cigarettes "I'd suggest hiding those. They're vultures for good smokes."

Sidney smirked. "Oh believe me, I will. Last pack you gave me was gone in five seconds. Why d'you keep getting them if you don't smoke."

"Bribes," she said without a moment of hesitation. "How else am I supposed to convince Chuckler to stand guard while I pee?"

Sidney laughed. Eleanor winked and then walked back towards her foxhole.

* * *

 _May 1935 – Ladybird Lounge, Los Angeles_

"… _Good night sweetheart, good night."_

 _Eleanor ended the last note of the song and looked down to her feet as the stage lights began to dim. The crowd of dancers applauded her. She had a large smile on her face. The thrill of performing, the applause, it was the greatest feeling in the world._

 _She looked up once more. The band began to play the opening notes to Blow, Gabriel, Blow._

 _Her eyes wandered over the dancing crowd and locked with the man behind the bar. He gave her a beautiful smile. She felt her heart begin to flutter as she sang every note of the song perfectly._

 _When the show finished, Eleanor strode towards the bar. She took a seat. A drink was placed in front of her. She looked up to see the man standing there._

" _Hell of a set tonight," he complimented. He was wiping a glass with a dish rag. The crowd was beginning to dwindle._

" _Thank you," she said._

" _I haven't seen you around here before."_

" _Like you would remember," she brushed it off._

" _Believe me, dame like you… I wouldn't forget."_

 _The blush creeps on her face and the smile deepens._

" _I am rather unforgettable. I'm Ellie."_

 _He gave her a charming smile. "Wesley."_

* * *

 **Short and sweet but it is a bit lighter in comparison to what's coming. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	10. Fools Rush In

"FALL BACK!"

Hoosier heard Corrigan yell the order mid sprint. The Japs were hot on their heels. They were starting to overpower them.

"FALL BACK!"

Hoosier fired a couple of rounds before he turned to run back with the rest of his company. Then he saw a flash of blonde running past him. He turned to see an American uniform heading towards the line of fire. He could tell it was Thompson.

 _No one left behind._

That sentenced that had been drilled into so many of the war films he saw and admired as a kid.

 _Shit._

He took off running after Thompson. She was fast but he caught up to her. She was bent over Hamilton in third platoon.

"Lieutenant, we gotta go," he said.

"Help me lift him!" She barked.

Hoosier looked over and saw the vacant look in Hamilton's eye.

"Lieutenant."

"SMITH, HELP ME!" She screamed in his face. "We have to get him out!"

"Tommy!"

That seemed to snap her out of it.

"He's gone. C'mon, we got to go!"

He saw Thompson's eyes harden. Then, they started running back the way he came.

They made it three steps before they heard more yelling in Japanese.

"Fuck!" Hoosier cursed.

"This way!"

Thompson grabbed him by the arm and they started running away in the opposite direction.

She was well ahead of him as they ran from the incoming Japs. There were gunshots hitting the trees around him. They sprinted along the side of a small river. They must be much deeper in Japanese territory than they should've been. His feet pounded on the ground.

He turned slightly and shot a couple of round back as he then kept running. For one moment it felt like something bit him on the arm.

"Fuck!"

His pack weighed him down. Thompson stopped abruptly, Hoosier nearly ran into her.

"Shit."

The ground ended and a rather larger waterfall took its place. It was about fifteen feet up.

"Take off your pack," Thompson stated.

"What?"

"Take off your pack. It'll weigh you down."

She was suggesting they jump. There were more gunshots coming closer.

Hoosier shrugged his pack and then tossed it down off the cliff. She tossed off her musette bag.

"Sure as shit hope that water's deep," Hoosier said as they both leapt off the cliff.

His stomach felt like it was up in his chest. While the fall only last a few seconds, to Hoosier it felt longer. It was like the world around him was moving at a snail pace. He could see Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson out of the corner of his eye. If they made it, what would they do next? They would have to find their way back to H 2/1.

As the water got closer, Hoosier took a deep breath. He hit the water and plunged deeply. Around, all he saw was green. He sank to the bottom and when his rear hit the bottom, he pushed himself up off the bed and he swam around. His lungs were screaming for air. He found his pack and rifle. He used his feet to push himself off the ground. When he breached the surface, he took a deep breath.

There was a splash next to him. He looked over to see Thompson's head above water.

"Come on," she urged as they started swimming to the edge.

"Think we lost 'em?" Hoosier asked.

"We just jumped off a fucking cliff. I fucking hope we did," she said.

He was taken aback by the amount of cursing coming out of her mouth.

"You kiss your mama with that mouth?" He asked jokingly.

She glared at him so hard, he wondered for a moment if a look really could kill.

"Fuck you, Smith."

Then she started walking, well more like stomping, into the woods. Hoosier followed her. They had to get well out of sight in order to get their bearings. He slipped the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. It was soaked, which meant it was probably useless. He felt a stinging pain from his arm.

"You're bleeding," she pointed out after she'd turned back around.

"Am I?" He looked down to see the red on his shirt.

"Let me have a look," she ordered.

She led him over to a fallen log. He flinched as she touched around it.

"It's not too bad," she said. "A graze, but it's still bleeding and who the hell knows what sort of bacteria is in that goddamn water."

"Sure got a mouth on you," Hoosier mocked. She never used to curse. She was the girl that put on lipstick after almost getting killed by a Jap. "You might just be a marine after all."

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you," she replied as she kept poking at his wound. Hoosier thought she was getting some sort of twisted pleasure out of it. "It's gonna need stitches. Think we're under good enough cover to do it here?"

Hoosier looked around at the brush wall around them.

"Good as we're gonna get. Do what you gotta do, Doc," he said. They had to get back to H 2/1.

"In the meantime, why don't you figure out where we need to go," she said.

"Aye, ma'am."

He could almost feel her rolling her eyes as she dug through her bag to find the sewing kit. Hoosier smirked. He took out the wet map from his pack and laid it on the ground. He knelt on the ground next to it.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly where they were, but he could get a rough idea based on the direction they ran.

"I need you to stay completely still," Thompson stated. He looked over his shoulder and saw the needle. "Step back from the map, and then don't move."

He figured he ought to listen to the woman with the sharp needle. He moved to sit back on the log. She splashed some of her water on the wound before the needle finally poked through his skin.

"Fuck," Hoosier cursed quietly at the pain.

"It's either I stitch you up or you bleed to death, you choose."

"Can't you be a bit more delicate? I'm not a fuckin' set of curtains," he grunted.

"Oh sure, yeah, let me just cover this pointy fucking needle in silk and feathers. Will that make it any better?" She asked sarcastically.

"None'a this woulda happened if you hadn't gone runnin' like some lunatic," Hoosier grumbled angrily as she put in another stitch.

He smirked triumphantly at her lack of retort. She knew he was right.

"Why did you come after me? You don't even like me," she questioned.

"Who said I didn't?" Hoosier asked.

Out here, she proved herself to be more capable than most. They didn't get along, but Hoosier narrowed that down to her pigheadedness.

He flinched once more at the needle piercing his skin. He swore he saw Thompson smile.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He deduced.

"No," she said as though she was trying to cover it up. "Of course not."

"Uh huh."

"You're all done," she said.

She then wrapped a bandage around it.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" She said in a tone that reminded him very much of what this mother would say when she'd patch up a scraped knee. He'd deny it if anyone ever asked, but he'd cry when his mom used his dad's moonshine to disinfect a cut. It stung.

"We probably outta start moving. Our line's about three miles back that way," Hoosier pointed in the direction they came from.

"Oh yeah, just a waterfall in the way," she replied sarcastically. "Not to mention a forest full of Japs that want nothing more than to kill us."

She sighed. "Let's start walking then."

* * *

"Any of you seen Tommy or Hoosier?" Lucky asked when they made it back their base camp.

"I want second platoon on the line! Two on two off!" Runner heard Corrigan order.

"Not since the retreat," Chuckler said.

 _Shit… did they…_

No… Of course they didn't go down. Someone would've realized.

"Lieutenant!" Runner called out when he saw Corrigan stroll by. He stopped in his tracks. "Have you seen Private Smith or Lieutenant Thompson?"

Corrigan shook his head.

"Did anybody see them go down?" He asked. By now, word would have gotten to him.

"No."

He could almost feel the relief wash over him, until he realized that meant his friends were still unaccounted for.

"Sir, they're still out there," Lucky pointed out. "We can't just…"

"Leckie, we need all hands on deck."

"So you're just gonna leave them?!" He snapped back. He stood up and got right in Corrigan's face.

"Stand down, Private or I will have you thrown in the brig," Corrigan threatened.

Lucky held the glare for a beat before backing down.

"Smith and Thompson will turn up," Corrigan assured. "Phillips, you and Stone take over for Reynolds and Samuels at 1800."

"Aye, sir," Phillips said half heartedly.

Corrigan left after that.

"We can't just leave them out there," Lucky declared when Corrigan was out of sight. It wasn't even a question. The three of them had already come up with some half-baked plan before even speaking. They would go look for their friends. Screw what Corrigan said.

"No, we're not," Runner agreed. "Sid, cover for us."

"Why do I gotta stay?" Sidney objected. Of course he wanted to come to.

"Because you gotta be somewhere," Chuckler explained as he put his pack back on. "You don't show up, they'll know."

"What if they ask where you went?" Sid asked. Runner, and Lucky were getting their guns and packs before heading out.

"Send them on a misdirection. We went to the latrine. We went to scavenge for food…" Lucky instructed. "We'll be back come nightfall."

Sid nodded. "I'll cover."

The three of them slunk out of the foxhole and kept an eye out for Corrigan or any of the other officers. Then, they made a break for the woods. Half-baked plan or not, they had to go find their friends.

* * *

"We need to take a break," Eleanor stated.

They'd been walking for what felt like forever. She could see the exhaustion in Smith's steps. He did not object to stopping. They took a seat on the nearest fallen log.

"Let me take a look at that," she said pointed to the bandage. They'd been walking a few hours and she would need to check the wound. She took off her bag.

He let her do her job.

"How far are we?" She asked.

"Dunno. I guess probably about an hour walk."

"Weird isn't it?" She asked. "It's too quiet."

"Maybe the Japs've gone to bed," Smith suggested.

"If only."

She felt guilty about the bullet he'd taken to the arm. She felt guilty about getting them in this mess.

"It still looks good," she said.

"Thanks Doc."

"Smith… I'm sorry for getting us into this," she apologized. "I thought… I don't know what I thought."

She thought she could save that soldier, but they were calling for a retreat. She'd heard the call and then the cry for help.

 _I can get to him._

Of course, she didn't.

Eleanor thought of the little blonde girl waiting back in Chicago.

She'd been so incredibly reckless and stupid.

"I screwed up and now we're stuck out here," she said more to herself.

The tears began to well up in her eyes. How could she gamble her life like that? She'd already done enough of that coming here in the first place.

It felt like the weight that had been constantly on her shoulders for the last five years was crushing her. Her lungs felt heavy as every breath she took was a struggle.

"Hey, are you okay?" Smith seemed to ask through muddled waters.

 _Momma loves you, Violet._

" _To the moon and back."_

Her heart began racing as the panic set in. It was like being cornered by that Japanese soldier only worst. This was her own doing. Her own stupidity. She put someone else before Violet. She'd told herself she'd play it as safely as she could, but she'd done something so incredibly stupid.

Slowly, she covered her face with her hands and tried to take deep breaths.

She didn't even hear the routing through her bag. She didn't think of anything outside of her own panic. She couldn't stop thinking about Violet.

She'd left her. What had she been thinking?

" _Momma!"_

"Thompson…"

She tried to take a deep breath.

" _Momma!"_

 _Violet…_

"Thompson…"

Reckless. Stupid.

There was someone tapping on her shoulder.

"Tommy!"

She looked up and saw Smith sitting next to her. He was holding something in his hand. Her tube of lipstick.

She took it and held it like it was the only thing keeping her to the ground.

Her heart rate slowly began to steady.

"You okay?" He asked.

She nodded as she took a deep breath. She carefully put the lipstick back in her purse.

"I gotta ask, what is it with the lipstick?" He asked.

"I was a singer," she admitted. "But when I started out in New York, I was a naïve girl and had awful stage fright… I was singing accompany for some band. I was panicking when the lead singer looks at me, all confident, hands me a tube of lipstick and tells me: 'Lipstick can turn you into someone else'. Stuck with me."

"You were a singer?" He asked.

"Yes. A damn good one too," she said.

"Who'da thought? Our nurse was a showgirl," Smith joked.

"Not a showgirl, a lounge singer. Very different."

"Uh-huh. How good could you be if you ended up as a nurse?" Smith asked.

"Performing isn't exactly the most paying and a love for it isn't always enough," she explained through a stiff jaw. "And I'll have you know Benny Goodman thought I was plenty talented."

She got up off the log.

"Are you okay to keep moving?" She asked. "It's starting to get dark."

Smith nodded. Then his expression changed at the little bit of information he'd almost overlooked.

"You met Benny Goodman?" He asked skeptically.

"I was a frequent performer at the Blue Room in New York City," she explained nonchalantly as he put her bag back on. "He came in for a party once."

Perhaps she'd stretched the truth a little. She did perform for Benny Goodman, but she'd been a part of a band. She sang additional harmonies. He thought they were all good. But to a sixteen year old, it was the world. She'd decided that she wanted to go on her own. She packed her bags, and much to the chagrin of Anna, moved to Los Angeles.

They began walking once more.

"Really?" He said in disbelief.

"Smith, the stuff you don't know about me could fill a book," she replied. "And if you ever tell anyone about my past… I will tell them how you bitched and moaned while I stitched you us."

They started in the direction they hoped was back to their friends.

"Don't worry, I ain't gonna tell anyone," he assured. "Maybe we oughta start calling you Nightingale. For the nurse and the bird."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "I've barely excepted Tommy. No way are you changing that."

"Suit yourself, Nightingale."

"Shut up, Pigeon," she retorted.

Smith snorted. "Pigeon?"

"The most annoying of birds," she retorted. "Much like you, Smith."

"I'm an annoying bird?"

"Well, you keep squawking on like that…" she retorted.

"Why don't you call me Hoosier?" He asked. "You call everyone else by their nicknames."

"Because I didn't think we were friends… but I guess I was wrong about a lot." For the first time, Eleanor saw Smith as a friend. Or an acquaintance.

 _Oh, can it Eleanor, he's your friend._

"Thank you for not leaving me behind. I was wrong about you."

"Yeah, well, things you don't know about me could fill a book," he said repeating her exact words.

How pretentious they sounded coming from the lips of another.

"All things considered,

Eleanor stopped at the sound of footsteps coming towards them.

He put one finger to her lips as he pulled her down and they each hid behind a tree. Eleanor felt her heart begin to pound. She looked over at Smith. He lifted his rifle. Eleanor took a deep breath.

One…

Two…

She'd tossed her pistol in the water.

The footsteps, at least three sets, came closer.

Smith mouthed _'Stay still'_.

She nodded slowly.

Three…

Four…

Smith moved slightly away from the tree. A twig snapped under his foot. The three sets of footsteps stopped.

Eleanor sucked in a breath and he shut his eyes and stepped out from behind the tree with the rifle raised.

She expected a series of gun shots, followed by the collapse of Smith… She didn't expect to hear a code word.

"Lorelai!"

"Jesus Christ, Hoosier, put that thing down."

Chuckler.

Eleanor sighed in relief. She stepped out from behind the tree and saw Chuckler, Lucky, and Runner. Smith was putting the rifle back down. She ran over and hugged Runner.

"I guess we see who the favorite is," Chuckler joked.

Eleanor broke apart from Runner and then playfully punched Chuckler in the shoulder.

"Never thought I'd be so relieved to see you assholes," she said.

"Feeling's mutual," Chuckler teased.

"What the Hell happened to you guys?" Lucky asked.

"It's a long story, but we should get back now. Japs could be anywhere," Smith stated.

* * *

Sidney was fidgeting nervously. Chuckler, Lucky, and Runner went after Hoosier and Tommy about two hours ago. He'd managed to deter the Lieutenant Corrigan from questioning where Lucky, Runner, and Chuckler were. He sent his CO to the mess area.

Sidney did not understand why Corrigan just wasn't letting them go look. It was the marine way not to leave any man behind. It was disconcerting to him. If he got lost, would no one be allowed to look for him? Or was it just because it was her? Sidney had seen it. He'd heard it. Corrigan and Tommy didn't get along. He didn't seem to understand why she interacted only with the enlisted men. She didn't get why he didn't interact with them unless to give orders.

"So, Phillips, where are Jurgens, Leckie, and Conley?" Sergeant Stone asked as they stood on the perimeter keeping watch.

"I don't know," Sidney shrugged. He had a harder time lying to Stone.

"They went after Smith and Thompson didn't they?" He deduced.

Sidney nervously bit the inside of his cheek, but that was enough to give him away.

"Jesus Christ, Phillips. Now we've got five missing instead of two," Stone scolded. "Stay here. I gotta go talk to Lieutenant Corrigan."

"But Sarge…"

"You aren't this stupid, Phillips."

"Marine's don't leave anyone behind," Phillips argued. "Ain't that what we were told? But Lieutenant Corrigan was just gonna leave them out there."

"It isn't always that simple," Stone stated.

Phillips could feel his frustration seething.

Before either of them could say anything, they heard a rustling in the bushes. Both Stone and Sidney pointed their rifles towards the noise.

"Lorelai."

They lowered their weapons slightly as Chuckler emerged first. Then Runner, then Hoosier. Tommy and Lucky brought up the rear.

Sidney put his rifle back over his shoulder. The relief washed over him. In a moment, it felt like the weight that had been on him since the retreat had lifted. He walked over to Tommy and hugged her.

"It's good to see you too, Sid," she said.

"You boys are idiots," Stone said to Lucky, Chuckler, and Runner. "I ought to report this to Corrigan."

His three friends paled.

"Now, now, Stone," Tommy spoke up. She said it in a calm voice that Sid didn't know what she was going for. "There's no need for that. If you're going to Corrigan, lead the way. I need to talk to him. Runner, cover for him with Sid here. Lucky, Chuckler, take Hoosier to the aid station. Make sure that arm gets looked at."

"Yes, ma'am," they all said in unison.

"Good. Stone…" she motioned for him to move.

Stone and Tommy walked back deeper into camp. Five minutes back and already pissed off. That was definitely Tommy.

"Did she just call you Hoosier?" Lucky asked.

Hoosier shrugged. "Bein' stuck out in enemy territory bonds people together, I guess."

"I guess so," Lucky replied.

Lucky, Chuckler, and Hoosier headed out towards the aid station leaving behind Sid and Runner.

"I gotta tell you, I do not want to be Lieutenant Corrigan right now," Runner stated.

"That makes two of us."

* * *

"I couldn't risk the lives of a dozen men for the lives of two soldiers," Corrigan stated as Eleanor and Stone stepped in.

Corrigan had immediately gone on the defense.

Eleanor tried her best not to laugh. Corrigan was scared of her.

"Why does everyone think I'm going to yell at you?" She asked. "I mean, that is kind of my thing, but I do hate to be thought of as predictable."

It seemed as though the growing tension in the room dissipated.

"Stone, can you give us a moment?" Eleanor asked.

"Aye, ma'am," he said as he stepped out.

Corrigan and Eleanor stood in silence for a beat.

"I've been rather horrible to you, haven't I?" She stated.

"I wouldn't go that far."

"I came here to tell you that I'm fine. I understand why you did what you did… and I lost my gun," she listed.

"Of course you lost it," she heard him mumble under his breath causing her to roll her eyes.

"I also came by to ask you not to be harsh on Conley, Jurgens, and Leckie," she said.

"Why would I?" He asked.

Oh crap… he didn't know. Or if he knew, he was trying to get her to confirm it.

 _Lie. You're good at that._

"Uh… Phillips mentioned that they snapped at you for not letting them come to find Smith and myself," she said. Runner had mentioned to her as they walked back to camp that Leckie did get vocal with Corrigan.

"Get some chow. I'll talk to someone about getting you another pistol," he said.

Eleanor stopped. "About that… I don't want to give up the red cross."

"What happened today and the Jap almost shooting you should be plenty reason to carry," Corrigan argued.

"That pistol never once left the holster," she stated. "I wouldn't get much use out of it. I'm trained to help. Not to kill."

It felt wrong for her to give up the cross. She thought about the lessons she wanted to teach Violet. She'd done some not so great things in her life. She would not kill. That wasn't in her job description.

"If you give me another one, I'll lose that one too, and the next one, and the next one…"

"Thompson, sometimes I think I've got you all figured out… and then you do this."

"I'm a nurse, Corrigan. Don't forget that."

"Look, sleep on it, and if you haven't changed your mind come morning, I won't request a new one."

"Fine."

Eleanor turned to leave.

"And Thompson…" she stopped in her steps. "I'm glad you're okay."

She gave a genuine smile before leaving the tent.

* * *

 **Longer than my usual chapter, but I felt as though it would be awkward to cut. I have caught up with everything I've written so it may take some time before the next chapter. I hope you liked it. We're getting into Part 2, and I am so excited to be introducing familiar and new characters to Eleanor's story. Let me know what you thought!**


	11. Sentimental Journey

_Two Months Later_

' _Dear Claire,_

 _I probably will never send you this letter… I doubt it would make it past the censors, but it feels right to write down what you should expect coming into battle:_

 _The first and most obvious are the enemy. They are ruthless. It seems as though they never sleep. When soldiers aren't shooting at you, their bombing us. None of us has slept more than an hour a night. We've taken to sleeping five to a foxhole and fortifying it as best we can with bamboo. I did something that may be stupid and I may regret immensely later, but I turned down giving up my red cross for a pistol. I carried for perhaps three weeks but I 'lost' the pistol and refused a new one. Out here, the Geneva Conventions don't matter. But I didn't think it was right to carry a weapon when I'm here to help people… I guess you aren't the only one of us who is noble._

 _But it isn't simply the enemy that is your biggest problem. The environment is. Heavy rain, mosquitoes the spread malaria... I've dealt with more cases of malaria than I do battle wounds. I never would have guessed that bugs would be more lethal than a man shooting you with a gun. I had a case of malaria last week where the boy had a fever of over 105f. He constantly bounced between sweats and chills. He threw up everything in his stomach and then threw up bile until finally passing out. The vaccine for the disease, Atabrine, has side effects almost as unpleasant as getting malaria. For a while, it turned my skin yellow. Very attractive._

 _Then there's the hunger. I've never been starving. I've been broke and hungry but never starving. That is until I came out here. Get ready, Claire, for the the military to send you out on some damn deserted island with not enough food. All our rice has maggots in it. At least that's some protein… But it's barely enough to keep us moving. We scavenge for food, but there isn't much. Eating too much fruit has made many of the marines, including myself I'm sad to say, have the runs. Sleep deprivation has taken its toll on some of the men. I saw one poor marine fall asleep in the middle of walking. Anger, frustration, low moral run rapid at camp._

 _Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever get off this damn island._

 _I spent most of my life pretending to be someone else. I used to look at stories of war and think how glamorous it all looked. I swooned whenever I saw Clark Gable or John Wayne in uniform… but war isn't like the movies. Nothing about this is glamorous…_

"Supper's on, supper's on."

Eleanor looked up from her letter to see Hoosier swaggering in.

"Find anything?" She asked.

"This," he said as he tossed them each a bar of stale… food? "Army rations from 1918. Quartermaster in Dog Company claims they're edible."

Eleanor huffed and opened the packaging. It was hard as a rock.

"After you suck on them a while," Hoosier added.

"Is this all you could find?" Chuckler whined.

"You fucking forage next time."

Eleanor smirked as she put the ration in her pocket.

"I gotta go check in on the others."

"Want one of us to go with you?" Chuckler asked.

After Hoosier and Eleanor got separated, she was almost constantly being accompanied by one of her friends.

"No, no, it's ok. You guys stay here."

She crawled out of the foxhole and out into the rain.

… _The one consolation are my friends. I wouldn't trade the friends I've made here. They're more like family to me. I never really had that before. Truth is, if I'm up shit creek without a paddle, I'm glad it's with them._

* * *

Eleanor had already read her book twice now. She was writing a novel of a letter to Anna. She kept writing and then tossing letters to Claire. She never could bring herself to write to Violet. It was a complicated, constant, emotional strain on her. She did this all to make sure that Violet had all the things in life she never did. But there was a tremendous amount of guilt every time she risked her life. She just wanted this entire war to be over so she could go back home

She smacked a mosquito away from the back of her neck. She was treating a young man with malaria. He wasn't too bad, probably fine in a couple of days. She was in the aid station when Lucky and Sid came in.

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" She asked.

"Did you hear?" Lucky asked. "The army's landed."

This was intriguing.

"Surprised they found their way here. They're only what, four months late?" Eleanor mocked. She, along with any other marine, was bitter about the army. They got all the new gear, meanwhile they were stuck with rations from 1918.

"Plenty of supplies ripe for the picking," Sid spoke. "Need anything?"

"Do I ever," she said. "We're low on most things, but if you could find plasma, sulfanilamide, crystalline and tablets, and pentothal."

They both stared at her as though she'd grown an extra head. "You know what, I'll just come too."

She absolutely needed a break. She looked over at Red.

"I'm going for supplies. Think you can hold down the fort?" She asked.

There weren't many patients. Most of the ones who were bad off went to the nearest field hospital.

"Sure thing, Tommy."

Eleanor grabbed a rucksack and tossed it over her shoulder.

Sid and Lucky shared a look as Eleanor strolled out of the aid station. She met up with the others from H 2/1 that were going on the supply run.

The army wasn't stationed all that far away from them. It was perhaps a one hour walk. They followed the road.

"So, we just wait for the air raid alarm to go off?" Eleanor asked.

"From what I've heard from some of the guys in I company, they run away even though the Japs attack the air fields, not the beach," Howard from second platoon explained.

With daily raids on the airfield, this would be easy.

Eleanor wasn't surprised to see ten more marines from another division along the edge waiting. Her eyes greedily looked over the pile of supplies. They waited until they could hear the distant rumbling of the plane engine and then the loud blaring alarm.

She watched as the soldiers handling the supplies ran away to cover.

"Time to get greedy," Howard stated.

Eleanor had a smile on her face as she went in with the other men. They began rummaging through crates as quickly as possible. Eleanor looked for the red cross on the lid. She managed to find the supplies.

"Sid, crowbar," she said to her young friend. He gave it to her. She forced the box open and hit the mother load. Bandages, sulfa tablets and powder, morphine, syringes, everything they were low on.

"Sweet merciful Lord, thank you," she said as she began filling her bag. She only took what they needed.

Why was it that the army was always well stocked, meanwhile the marines that had been on this godforsaken island for months got the short end of the stick? It hardly seemed fair.

Eleanor opened another crate to find it had plasma in it. There were probably fifty bottles in that box alone. She could see about a dozen more. She grabbed at least ten bottles wrapped in cotton and stuck them in her bag.

Around her, the marines were happily grabbing food and whatever else they could get.

"Tommy!" Lucky called her. "Come see this!"

The air raid was probably almost done. The siren would probably stop ringing any time now. Eleanor went over to her friend and saw he was beside the officer trunks. There were two opened.

"Look," he said as he lifted the lid of the second one.

 _2_ _nd_ _Lt F. Kowalski_ it said in big black letters. But that wasn't the interesting part. Inside the box were women's clothes. There was even a hairbrush and a tube of lipstick.

"Oh my God," she said in disbelief.

"Halt!" The siren had stopped and the MP's returned.

Eleanor snapped out of her disbelief as she took off running, her bag full of supplies.

"Try and catch us!" She heard someone yell as every marine sprinted as fast as they could.

* * *

When they got away long enough to walk and not run, Lucky, Sid, and Eleanor fell towards the back. All the others discussed happily what they'd found. All of them carried crates of food. Lucky had found crackers he could not wait to trade for something else. She'd brought the supplies she gathered over to the aid station. After she did an inventory of what they had, the corpsmen from Dog Company came to replace them. They were surprised and ecstatic over all the new supplies.

Eleanor was more distracted by the fact that there was another woman here. She wasn't some distant figure like Claire Rousseau. She was only an hour walk away. They were on the same island. In a world torn by war, it was almost a miracle that Eleanor found this other woman. She had to meet her.

"Earth to Tommy."

She snapped out of her daze to Chuckler. She was sitting at the OP with him, Runner, Sid, Gibson, and Hoosier.

"Hm?" She asked.

"Runner's got the runs. Got anything for it?" Chuckler asked. Eleanor looked over to see Runner sitting on a log, his pants down.

"Sorry Runner, got nothing," she apologized.

"What's going on up there?" Hoosier asked pointing to his head.

"Daydreaming about me again?" Chuckler teased.

"Always," she said. "Dreaming about the day you finally shut up."

He had a large shit eating grin on his face.

"Hear that, Sid? She's been dreaming about me again," he replied.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. These were times that she really missed having other women to talk to.

"I've got a lot on my mind," she said.

She never stopped having a lot on her mind. She spent her time constantly in thought. Her worries of Violet and Anna. Her curiosity of Claire Rousseau and now F. Kowalski. Her current situation… she never stopped jumping from thought to thought.

"Anything happen while I was prospecting?" Lucky asked as he jumped into the foxhole with a sack over his shoulder.

"Betty Hutton stopped by and gave everyone blowjobs," Hoosier stated.

Yes, Eleanor truly truly missed being around women.

"And on that note…" she stated as she stood up.

"Hey, wait, I got you something," Lucky said as he reached into his bag and tossed her a can. She caught it and saw

Her eyes went wide. "You are a wonderful man."

She immediately grabbed the knife and stabbed it into lid of the can. She could hardly wait to taste the sweetness of the peaches. She hadn't had anything sweet over the last few months. Even the chocolate in some of the rations was bland and tasteless.

"And don't you miscreants worry, I got plenty to go around."

Lucky began giving out the rest.

"Traded the crackers with F Company."

"Hey, look!" Chuckler said to Runner as he held up the can.

"Peaches? I have the runs and you had to go and get peaches?" Runner whined from his toilet log.

"They were all out of cheese," Lucky joked.

Eleanor smirked as she then holstered her knife and then began to drink the juice. Never had anything tasted as magnificent. She wanted to savor every single sip.

She looked over at her friends. For the first time since arriving on this island, Eleanor felt like she could relax. It was a small relief brought by a can of peaches.

"You beautiful can. Where have you been all my life?" She heard Chuckler say affectionately.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucky glugging it all down as quickly as he could. Eleanor lowered her can.

"Lucky, don't drink too fast…"

It was too late. Lucky stopped drinking, the satisfied look on his face dropped and he took off running out of the foxhole before dropping on his hands and knees and beginning to throw up.

"Yeah… that's what'll happen," she sighed.

All the guys, including her, were laughing. Runner was poking fun at him. Lucky started laughing too.

A can of peaches can really bring people together.

Eleanor headed to do her daily rounds. She decided to start with the officers. Lieutenant Green, who replaced Kelly after he was killed two weeks ago, had a few sores and blisters she wanted to keep an eye on.

It was wrong to speak ill of the dead, but Eleanor liked Green much more than Kelly. Green was a happily married man. More importantly, he kept his hands to himself. That made him a trade up in her book.

There was another reason she started off there. She wanted to ask Corrigan if he could get in contact with the army battalion on the beach. She needed to meet F. Kowalski.

She slid down into the foxhole and saw Corrigan, Green, Jones, and Stone sitting around talking and joking around. War was a lot of hurry up and wait, which meant they had to pass the time somehow. Eleanor's job, however, didn't end if the enemy stopped shooting.

"Lieutenant Thompson," Stone greeted happily.

"Lieutenant Green, how's that sore looking?" She asked in her friendly, sing-song voice.

He lifted his pant leg to reveal the large oozing sore. She could see that it was getting infected. A thin layer of puss formed on the top. The skin around was red and enflamed. Old Eleanor, pre-child, would have vomited at the sight. Present Eleanor was just annoyed that he hadn't taken hers and Red's advice to take care of the wound.

"Green, what did I tell you about keeping that clean?" Her nice voice was gone and replaced with her angry mom voice. "Go sit there and I'll deal with it in a minute. Corrigan, can I get a word?"

Green did as he was told.

"Yeah, what is it?" He asked.

"I was hoping you'd be able to get me in contact with an army officer?" She asked.

All the men in the foxhole gave her a strange look.

"Why?" Green asked.

"It's a simple question, could you?"

"What's his name?" Corrigan asked suspiciously.

" _Her_ name is Kowalski. Second Lieutenant F. Kowalski," she explained. "I don't know her first name."

"How'd you hear about her?" Corrigan asked.

She bit her tongue for a moment. She couldn't exactly tell Corrigan that she'd seen F. Kowalski's opened trunk.

Instead she did what she does best…

"Do you honestly think a woman showing up on this patch of dirt isn't going to spark a few murmurs?" She asked with her hand going on her hip.

They didn't say anything.

"Please?" she pressed.

"Sure. I'll see what I can do," Corrigan replied.

"Thank you," she said with a soft smile. She then turned to Green sitting down. "Now Green, let's take care of that leg."

* * *

 **Oh boy, I am so excited to introduce F. Kowalski. For those that read Claire's story, she is very briefly mentioned. I'm also excited because we are getting closer to Australia where I have so much planned. I'm almost done the next chapter.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know! And thank you to every one who reviewed last chapter.**


	12. Swinging On A Star

It was night and Eleanor was finishing up her rounds. There were a few sores that needed to be checked out. Many of them, like Green's had been neglected. She made a note to do daily sore checks on every marine in her company.

 _Men and their incapacity to take care of themselves._ She could hear Anna's voice in the back of her mind. She wondered how Anna was getting on in Africa. Last letter she received had been a few weeks ago.

She was heading back to the foxhole she shared with her friends when in the distance, loud booms erupted in distance. She turned, her heart pounding to see the orange from the fiery explosion.

She didn't wait as she turned and began sprinting as fast as she possibly could. Her heart pounded as the smell of gun powder and burning gasoline burnt her nose. The ground was trembling beneath her.

 _RUN!_

She wasn't far away from her hole, though it felt like she was running a marathon. She didn't stop as she threw herself down the entrance.

"Tommy!" It was Chuckler.

She felt a set of arms wrap around her and pull her towards the wall.

The blasts were deafening. Dirt sprayed them as a blast landed not too far away.

 _God, please have mercy on our souls._

She heard barking over the cracking booms. A dog had wandered in. Someone, Hoosier probably, grabbed the dog and held onto it.

Eleanor had tears streaming from her eyes. Like every time they were bombed, Eleanor closed her eyes and thought about anywhere else.

 _Eleanor felt the wind blowing through her hair as she and Wesley sped down the highway in his convertible. How a bartender could afford one in times like these, she'd never know. They drove through Beverly Hills, picking out their future dream homes. It was a long way away but Eleanor always said that she had to dream big to be big._

 _They passed a great big mansion with a long drive way. Eleanor easily could see the children playing in the front yard. She imagined Christmases with a large beautifully decorated tree in the front window. She could see herself happy in a place like that. Grand and successful, just as she intended to be. For the first time in her life, she'd have a real home with someone who loved her as deeply as she did him._

" _So, are you going to tell me where we're going?" Eleanor asked._

" _You'll see," he said._

" _I do like a man of mystery."_

 _They drove out to the Santa Monica Mountains. The Hollywood sign looming above them. She was not remotely dressed for this. She was wearing a powder blue dress and a pair of red flats._

" _Are you nuts?" She asked as he got out of the car, came around and opened the door for her._

" _I did tell you to wear something comfortable."_

" _This is comfortable… I thought you would be taking me to the Santa Monica pier."_

" _Darling, the pier ain't nothing compared to this," he stated. "Trust me."_

 _He held out his hand._

 _Of course she trusted him._

 _She sighed and took it. "If I break my ankle, you're gonna have to be the one who explains to Rolf why I can't sing tomorrow night."_

 _He laughed as they then began to walk up the trail._

 _It felt like they walked for hours up the long trail. Eleanor's feet were throbbing. She was hot and sweaty as the scorching sun beat down on her. She was exhausted._

" _I don't think I can take another step," she complained._

 _Wesley looked and smiled at her._

" _That's okay, we're here. Turn around," he said._

 _Eleanor grumbled as she turned and then sucked in a deep breath at the beauty in front of them. The city of Los Angeles was sprawled out in front of them. It was a rare clear day. It was breathtaking. It was like they were angels watching from up above. Life was going on below them but they weren't a part of it._

" _It's magical," she declared._

 _There was nothing more beautiful in the world._

" _I told you. Santa Monica Pier ain't nothin'."_

 _Up here, it felt like there was nothing else. Only them. She looked back at him. He was beautiful. Every single time he smiled, she swore her heart skipped a beat._

 _Wesley reached his hand around her waist and spun her around until they were face to face._

" _Ellie, I think I'm falling in love with you," he stated._

 _Eleanor kissed him softly on the lips._

* * *

The moment the shelling stopped. Eleanor broke away from the hold Chuckler had on her and immediately began to work. Parts of the ground were still burning. Men were buried in the ground where their foxholes once stood. She began triaging patients.

"Red! Get started on tagging those men there!" She ordered. Her other corpsman nodded and went to the incoming group of wounded.

Stone and Corrigan came over.

"Corrigan! Stone! Get some men and start digging up the collapsed holes," she barked out. They took off, she briefly saw Sid among them.

The jeeps were pulling up with stretchers at the ready.

"Get those men first," she ordered pointing to the ones she'd finished triaging.

"Corpsman!" She heard a pain filled cry.

There were so many calls. Men screaming in agony. Eleanor stood for a beat and looked at the chaos surrounding her. It seemed like everything moved a slower pace. The screams and the smell of searing flesh ingrained themselves in her memory. She took a deep breath and briefly touched her chest where the silver cross lay.

 _God, grant me strength._

"Help!" A loud, agonizing call reached her.

She snapped back to it and ran towards the call. She sprinted past her foxhole. Her friends stood outside not doing anything.

"Don't just stand there!" She barked. "I need help."

Hoosier snapped to action. After a beat, the other three did too.

When she reached the call, she found Private George Flynn from Third Platoon pinned between debris that had been covering his foxhole and the ground. They couldn't see the others. They could barely see Flynn, but Eleanor recognized his voice. It was hard to believe anybody could've survived this. It looked as though the ground was swallowing them whole.

"Jesus Christ," Runner muttered under his breath.

"Help," he begged.

She couldn't see damage that was done.

 _Shit._

"Get that debris clear," she ordered.

"Aye ma'am."

They moved quick. The deeper they got, the more they realized that Flynn was lodged under a heavy log. Eleanor knelt down so she was next to him.

Flynn let out another painful yelp as he attempted to move.

"Stay still, sweetheart," she told him. "Talk to me, tell me about home. Where are you from?"

"S-Seattle," he said.

"Got any siblings?"

She needed to keep him talking to distract him from the fact that he was pinned down and probably in a lot of pain. Chuckler and Hoosier attempted to lift the log but it didn't lift off completely. It looked like it was caught on something.

"N-None... Oh God, it hurts," he sobbed.

She looked up at her friends.

"Lucky, Runner, grab the side by his feet. Lift the log just high enough so I can pull him out," she told them. Then she looked back down at Flynn. "What about a girl, huh? Good looking fella like you has definitely got a girl."

"B-Beth," he said. Though there was pain in his voice, she could see the love and affection he had.

"Beth… I want you to think about Beth, okay? No matter how much it hurts. Think about the first time you met her. Your first kiss. When you realized you loved her. Can you do that?" She asked.

He frantically nodded. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She moved so her arm to loop under his free armpit and readied herself to pull him out.

"Ready?" She asked her friends. They nodded. "Okay, three, two, now."

They lifted the log and Eleanor pulled Flynn away. He let out a blood curling, pain-filled scream as she did it. His torso was out, but his right leg remained caught.

"Tommy, it's stuck," Lucky stated.

"Christ," she cursed under her breath. "Keep it steady."

She got on her belly and and crawled over to where the foot was stuck. She slipped her hands below the log and as gently as she could and began to free his foot. He screamed once more, loud and ear-piercing. Her friends dropped the log as Eleanor freed Flynn.

The first thing Eleanor noticed was the blood. His leg, arm, and torso were all torn up.

"Runner! Get a stretcher," she ordered. She knew he was the fastest of them.

He took off.

"Rest of you, help me bring him up," she said. She took out a syrette of morphine from her pack and stuck it in his shoulder. "Flynn, you're going to be okay, the morphine should kick in soon… but in the meantime, this is really going to hurt… On three. One… two… three."

The four remaining lifted him up and out of the hole. He yelled in pain once more. There was more blood coming from his leg. She prioritized that. Eleanor took out her scissors and cut open his pant leg.

"Fuck," she heard Lucky said as it revealed the broken leg.

"Now's not the time to get squeamish, Lucky," she said. She reached in her bag and pulled out one of her tourniquets. She tied it tightly just above his knee.

The tibia had pierced through the skin. She couldn't get a read of how much more damage had been done to the leg. There was blood pouring out of his leg. She just knew to splint it. The Field Hospital's surgical wing would be able to know more.

"Chuckler, check his arm. Hoosier, find two big sticks and help me splint the leg. Lucky, keep him talking," she dived up the work.

"Splint?" Hoosier questioned.

"Just listen to what I tell you to do," she stated. Hoosier nodded and then went to get the sticks.

Where was Runner with the stretcher.

"You're gonna be okay, Flynn," Lucky assured in a nervous voice. He was sitting close to Flynn's head. His morphine was probably about to kick in.

"Chuckler, how's that arm?" She asked.

"Uh… it's…"

She looked up to see him looking down at Flynn. Hoosier came back. He handed her two large sticks. They were the perfect length. She reached in her bag and pulled out three more leather straps.

"I'll be right there," she said. "Hoosier, Lucky, keep him steady."

Eleanor took a deep breath as she moved to place the sticks and then went to tie the first strap in place.

When she placed the second strap, this time very close to the bone and puncture site Flynn started to scream.

"Keep him still!" She yelled as he began to thrash.

"We're almost done, Flynn," Lucky said as he held down the wounded man's shoulders.

By the third strap, he stopped screaming and passed out from the pain. She bandaged the part of the deep gash in his leg from the bone.

"Lucky, keep an eye on his pulse until the stretcher gets here," she said as she finished tightening the last strap.

She then moved quickly to Chuckler who was looking at the arm, not knowing what to do.

"Move over," she said.

She looked at the arm and saw it was pretty much pulverized. His skin was purple and yellow around the veins. There was no point in splinting it, she knew the arm was as good as dead. Instead, she tied another tourniquet above his elbow.

Finally, Runner came back with stretcher bearers in tow. She reached in her bag, took out her lipstick and drew a red 'M' on his forehead for morphine. She scribbled together a tag and placed it on his chest.

"Severe leg and arm fractures," she stated as the stretcher bearers carefully placed him on the stretcher. "Morphine: one syrette. Urgent."

"Aye, ma'am."

And then they took Flynn away. She went to take a deep breath.

"Tommy, they need you back there," Runner stated.

No time for rest. No time to breathe. Eleanor set back off to work.

* * *

It was well into the afternoon when Eleanor finally got out of the aid station. She made it back to her foxhole, her hands and dungarees stained in blood. But there was no time to decompress.

"…putting cooks on the line but we don't have enough cooks," she caught as she went down into her foxhole. Sid and Gibson were in the foxhole as well. Corrigan was inside crouched in front of them.

"What's going on?" She asked. They were all cleaning their weapons.

"The Japs are making a move," Corrigan explained.

They were hit hard in the last bombing. A lot of good men died.

"Best case, we hear shit go off on the other side of the ridge," he added.

"Why the other side?" Sid asked.

"The Japs decided to go around us to the airfield," Corrigan said. "We're spread too thin, just like Puller and the Seventh."

Eleanor suddenly felt anxious over the upcoming attack. They didn't have enough men.

"Well, same old story for the First Marines," Lucky stated.

"Two hour watches tonight on the line."

Sid took out a cigarette.

"What're you smoking, Raleighs?" Corrigan asked almost in disgust.

"That's our allotment," Runner replied.

"Sometimes Lieutenant Thompson gives us her Lucky Strikes," Lucky added.

Corrigan looked back at her. She put up her hands in surrender.

"They stand guard while I pee, it's the least I can do."

Corrigan took out his pack and tossed it on the ground for them.

"In case Lieutenant Thompson's supply ran dry," he said. He looked at her. "A word?"

She nodded and then went out of the foxhole with him.

"So, how screwed are we?" She asked Corrigan in a low voice.

Corrigan reached into his holster and took out his pistol. He held it out to her.

"That screwed," he stated.

"Sir, I'm not taking that," she said firmly. "We've talked about this."

He huffed and then put it back in his holster. "I thought I'd give it a shot. Tonight, I want you and Red to stay back behind the line until you're called."

She nodded.

"Oh, and I asked about that army officer you asked about. I got a name: Florence Kowalski. If everything goes well tonight and we're still around tomorrow, I'll see what more I can do," he added.

She had a small smile on her face.

"Thank you, Corrigan," she said sincerely.

"If shit goes sideways, keep your head down," he said.

"Aye, sir," she replied.

Then he walked away. Eleanor went back in her foxhole, mentally preparing herself for the very worst.

Eleanor sat in her foxhole, her friends each with a Lucky Strike between their lips and cleaning their weapons.

"I guess we're up shit creek again," Gibson stated.

"Gib, when are we not?" Hoosier asked. "Only time we ain't fucked is when we're dead."

It was a grim reality that settled in on all of them. Eleanor leaned back and took a deep breath. This was it… the big moment they were working towards. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, they were supposed to have more coverage. It all felt… final.

Eleanor thought about the doll in her bag. Her friends were all distracted by their weapons. Eleanor reached in her bag and pulled out Polly. She stuck the doll in her pocket.

* * *

For hours Eleanor and Red waited in a foxhole not too far away from the main line. Neither of them dared to move a muscle or speak a word incase they missed a call. It would be hard to hear in the pouring rain. But it never came. As dawn broke the horizon, no attack ever came their way.

A flood of relief filled her. Her friends were okay. Red leaned back and let out a laugh as he reached for the pack of smokes in his pocket. She touched her pocket. _One more step._

"Lieutenant Thompson."

Both she and Red looked up from the hole to see Corrigan peering down at them.

"Just got word that you're needed," he told her.

She immediately tensed up before crawling out of the hole.

"It's none of our guys," he explained as they started walking.

"What is it?" She asked.

"The Seventh got hit last night. Their aid station is overwhelmed. They need a hand," he answered.

"Aye, sir," she replied. There was already a jeep waiting for her.

The drive up the line wasn't long. When they pulled up, Eleanor could already see the chaos. There were dozens of men sitting outside the aid station all with varying degrees of injury. She walked past them. She found the man in charge. He was bent over a man writhing in pain with a missing arm.

"Lieutenant Thompson from the First Marines," she introduced herself.

He looked up at her for a moment, confusion written on his face.

"I'm a nurse," she stated.

"Start over there," he said.

"Aye, sir," she said.

She went across the room and started working. Her helmet was off. The first man she attended to had a gun shot to the shoulder. According to his tag, he'd already been given three syrettes of morphine. She couldn't risk giving him another. Not that it mattered too much because he was unconscious. She patched him up and then moved on.

It became a blur of wounds. There were severed libs, gunshot wounds… things that would give anybody nightmares, but that was Eleanor's job.

"That's right, sweetheart, almost done," she soothed as a young man was laying down with a bullet wound to the face.

The shot had passed through one cheek and then out the other. The bullet had taken a good chunk of his jaw and a few teeth out. The teeth and gums she couldn't do much about, that was for the dentist. His mouth was full of gauze and cotton. She began to hum _Over The Rainbow_ trying to calm him down. She'd given him a syrette of morphine, his second. She stitched up his cheeks.

"Just one more…" she finished the final stitch and then bandaged him up. "There."

She doubted the marine would linger here long. Already they were starting to evacuate. She got up to move to the next wounded marine. Another marine bumped into her. He was looking around, seemingly searching for something. He was a bit taller than she was, built like he should be the poster boy of the marines. What captured her most, however, were his eyes. They were deep, dark brown. She could see the worry in them.

"Is there anything I can help you with…" she looked at the three chevrons on his sleeve, "Sergeant?"

"I'm looking for someone, ma'am," he stated.

She saw the harsh burns on his arms.

"Those are third degree burns. Let me take a look," she said.

"Have you seen a Sergeant Manny Rodriguez, ma'am?" he asked.

There was clear desperation in his voice but the nurse in her wanted him to sit down so she could help him.

"I'm not sure… I can't keep track," she answered honestly. "Let me at least put some burn ointment on that and bandage them? It's really easy to get an infection here. It won't take long, I promise."

He seemed to resign. She led him to the closest chair.

"Ain't you with the First?" He asked as she reached into her kit to pull out some burn ointment.

"I am… but your aid station needed some help," she answered. "How'd you know?"

"'Cause I saw you on our first day here," he answered. "One woman on an island full of men ain't easy to forget."

"Oh believe me, I know," she said lightly. "This'll probably sting a little." He flinched as she applied the ointment to the burnt flesh. "I did warn you."

She finished coating the burns and then wrapped his arms up in bandages.

"There, told you I'd be quick."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said.

"Remember to change that bandage at least once a day," she instructed. "And I hope you find your friend."

He gave her a small half smile before heading away from the aid station. She took a deep breath and went back to work.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think. Thank you to all those who reviewed last chapter. It really means a lot to me that you are enjoying this story.**


	13. On The Sunny Side Of The Street

About a week after the attacks, things seemed to be letting up. H 2/1 moved to a new position closer to the shore. They were in an actual base camp away from the fighting. The army was taking their position now. At least, that was the rumour going around. But, it seemed quiet enough now. She felt like maybe she could start to breath again.

"Oh come on, a picture, really?" Hoosier whined as Eleanor and her friends grouped together.

"Yes, Hoosier, a picture," she replied. Among some lost things Eleanor found as they moved around was a camera. She picked it up on a whim a few days ago, miraculously it still worked. She didn't think about where it came from. "Quit griping and smile."

She stood in a line between Chuckler and Hoosier. She asked Stone to take it.

"If I develop this and see that none of you are smiling, I will make you take another one," she threatened.

"And one, two…" Stone said as he snapped the picture.

"Lieutenant Thompson, I need you here," Corrigan said. Eleanor huffed and went over to him. She stopped to see Stone along the way and grabbed the camera.

"Thanks, Stone," she said as he handed her back the camera.

Then, Eleanor went over to Corrigan. He had a dejected look.

"What is it, Sir?" She asked.

"I just got word from Kowalski's CO… I'm sorry but she doesn't want to meet you."

Any good mood Eleanor had immediately vanished. Her entire body sagged at the news.

"Why?" She asked.

"Wouldn't say."

She couldn't explain it, but hearing that caused her chest to feel heavy with grief. It was like she'd yanked off stage by a large cane and proceeded to be clobbered by it. It was humiliating and painful.

"Thank you," she finally said, "for trying."

She didn't let Corrigan finish before walking away.

In her life, Eleanor had grown used to people disappointing her. For a long time, she came to expect it. But this was something different. This felt like a slap to the face. In her time here, one of the things that kept her sane was knowing that someone else understood what she felt. Claire, as far as Eleanor knew, still had yet to see battle. Last she'd heard, Claire was still on American soil. Florence Kowalski knew exactly what it was like out here. Eleanor couldn't comprehend why she didn't want to talk to another person who had her same experience. Even during boot camp and then at New River, Eleanor had never felt as lonely as she did in that moment. Before she had Anna and then she had Claire. Now, it felt like she had nobody. Her friends could never understand her life.

Eleanor sat down by a tree. She leaned back and breathed deeply, blinking back the tears. She would not shed tears over this. She would not.

* * *

 _November 1942_

' _Dear Anna,_

 _From your last letter, I see that congratulations are in order, Captain Murphy. Of course you would be the one to get promoted in the middle of a warzone. I was also glad to hear that you made friends in your unit. Friends are the only consolation of being out here. I think I would have died a long time ago if I didn't have Hoosier, Chuckler, Runner, Lucky, or Sid._

 _I remember how much I disliked Hoosier at the start. I told you about him briefly last time we saw each other. It's funny how things change. Preconceptions sure do create idiots of us all. In the Hell storm that is Guadalcanal, it's important to find saving graces._

 _I think we're moving on from here soon, at least that's the rumor going around. I hope we are. I haven't slept for more than an hour a night in three months. It's exhausting being berated by the enemy every night. They are murderers of sleep._

 _I have sores on my legs and bug bites in places I did not realize bugs could go. I think of home and the people I left behind to join our country's fight. I think of her and wonder if she could recognize me now…_

"Who're you writing to, Tommy?" Sid asked.

Eleanor looked up briefly from her letter. Sidney was next to her tying a bell to his rifle. Christmas was coming and they were getting festive. The rest of her friends sat around them killing time. They hadn't been given any orders but they were ready to move once they were.

"My sister," Eleanor said without a moment of hesitation. The others paid them no mind. Eleanor had been quiet ever since Corrigan told her about Florence Kowalski.

"You got a sister?" He asked.

"Not biological, but yes."

Anna was Eleanor's sister regardless of blood.

Sid looked like he wanted to know more. He was always so curious about her life. She couldn't quite figure out why.

"We grew up together," she explained. "Anna is the only family I have."

She of course could not mention Violet. She felt guilty about not telling them of her daughter, but Eleanor knew how people reacted to an unwed single mother. She experienced the jeers and the isolation first hand. She didn't think she could bear it coming from them.

"What happened to the rest?" Sidney asked.

Eleanor didn't say anything, she simply shrugged. That seemed to be indicative enough for Sidney.

"Another letter to Vera?" Runner asked Lucky a little bit louder. "Tell her I say hello. And remind her how handsome I am."

Eleanor rolled her eyes. Though she was grateful to have an excuse to avoid Sid's questions.

"Not a letter," Lucky stated. "It's an ode, an epitaph to our glorious victory at Guadalcanal."

"And why would anyone ever want to write an ode to this patch of dirt?" Eleanor asked. She hated this place.

"Yeah, what even rhymes with Guadalcanal?" Chuckler agreed.

"Nothing, that's how you know it's a terrible place."

"How fucked are we now on Guadalcanal?" Hoosier offered.

Eleanor snorted a laugh.

She didn't even hear Corrigan walk towards them until he spoke.

"Get your gear and stand by to stand by. We're finally leaving this shithole."

They all stopped moving. Eleanor's jaw dropped in disbelief. They'd made it. Finally, the rumors were true. Guadalcanal was won.

* * *

Eleanor sat on the beach getting ready to load the LCVP back to the ship. They were going to be dry-docked in Australia. It was a relief to get off that godforsaken stretch of dirt. The coming in boats were unloading supplies, loading up troops, and then making their way back. Eleanor and the rest of H 2/1 had to wait a while before it was their turn. Runner, Chuckler, Sid, and Gibson had all fallen asleep in the sun. Lucky leaned up against a tree writing either a letter or another poem. Hoosier was nose deep in a book. Eleanor was simply observing the life happening around her.

She could see the group of marines happily passing around a bottle of what looked to be more Japanese wine. There were others eating coconuts or finding other ways to kill time. A few used a coconut as a soccer ball and kicked it around. Unloading materials from the incoming LCVPs were army personnel. She could tell because their dungarees looked much cleaner than the exhausted marines. A jeep pulled up. She saw the Red Cross bands on their arms or on their helmets.

 _A freaking bullseye._

When they got out of the jeep, Eleanor noticed there was something off about one of the medical staff. Mostly that one was a woman.

Eleanor sucked in a breath. It was her, Florence Kowalski. The woman was wearing a helmet making it hard to see any real features. She could see a lock of brown hair sticking out of the back. She was smaller than the other soldiers around her, though that wasn't saying much since Eleanor was a head shorter than most of the marines in her unit.

She couldn't sit here while Florence Kowalski was standing right there.

"I'll be right back," Eleanor said as she picked herself up off the ground.

Her heart raced in her chest as she walked over to the soldiers loading up a jeep full of supplies. For a moment, Eleanor regretted leaving her spot. Florence Kowalski didn't want to see her.

She couldn't leave this island without at least introducing herself.

"Just do it, Elle. You've done harder things," she told herself as she took a step forward.

When she got closer, she could hear Florence Kowalski speak.

"Quit griping, Gonzalez. My dead mother can move faster than you," she said to a soldier walking by. Eleanor walked up behind her. Florence had an accent that Eleanor didn't recognize.

"Excuse me," Eleanor said in an uncharacteristically low voice.

Florence Kowalski turned around. She looked younger than Eleanor, probably not older than twenty-three. Her eyes were big, a little too big for her long and narrow face. Her skin was littered with tiny brown freckles. Her nose, which was also long and narrow, was slightly crooked. Her hair, though most of it was covered under the helmet, was a wildly curly brown from what Eleanor could see. She'd been right, Florence stood at just below her height of five feet six inches.

"Can I help you?" Florence Kowalski asked in a brash voice.

Eleanor took a breath before saying anything.

"I'm Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson," she introduced.

"And?" She asked.

"I thought maybe we should meet," Eleanor replied, "since we're both in the same boat."

Florence looked at her as though she'd gained an extra head.

"You're a nurse on the frontline with the men… so am I," she added.

"Gonzalez, Weston, you and the others take five," Florence Kowalski ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," Gonzalez and the other man, Weston, said in unison.

"Lieutenant Thompson, why don't we step to the side?" Florence Kowalski suggested.

Eleanor followed her away from the crowd of soldiers and marines.

She stopped and turned towards Eleanor.

"What exactly do you want from me, Lieutenant Thompson?" She asked.

Eleanor gave her a puzzled look.

"There are only, as far as I know, three people like us in this entire war. Shouldn't we… I don't know… be friends?"

Florence scoffed.

"Why would I want to be friends with someone already dead?"

Eleanor recoiled as though she'd been shot.

Florence let out a sardonic laugh.

"Do the marines teach you nothing but fairytales?" She asked. "Or are you too dense to figure it out?"

"Figure it out?" Eleanor replied in a cautious voice.

"You and me, we weren't supposed to make it. We were supposed to fail."

"But we didn't."

"Big accomplishment there. We made it so they send us off to die," Florence said bluntly.

Eleanor had had close calls but she had no intention of dying out here.

"No one who enlists does it with the intent on making it home. They enlist to sacrifice. If they make it through, great... but no one goes back whole. If you tell yourself different, you are sorely mistaken."

Eleanor didn't know what to say.

"It makes what we do easier when you accept that you're already dead. Once less thing to worry about."

Eleanor stared at the younger woman in shock. The motherly part of her wanted to wrap Florence up in a blanket and make her forget about whatever trauma made her like this. The normal part of her wanted to run far away from Florence. There was something not right with that girl.

"You'll miss your boat," Florence told her. "I'm sorry to be such a disappointment."

Florence turned away. Despite her misgivings, she wasn't about to let Florence walk away.

"Lieutenant Kowalski," the woman turned back around, "if you ever want to talk… write me."

Florence's expression did not change as she walked away.

Eleanor waited a beat before heading back to the beach. She couldn't shake away the words Florence Kowalski said.

* * *

When she rejoined her friends, they were up and moving. It was their turn to load back onto an LCVP and then on another boat to who somewhere else.

"Tommy, we were about to send another search party," Chuckler teased upon seeing her. "Where'd you go?"

Lieutenant Kowalski probably didn't have a nickname with her unit. She probably didn't have friends who would go into the woods and risk their necks for her.

"Saw something but it turned out to nothing," she replied vaguely. "So, who's ready to get off this slant of dirt?"

None of them had ever been more ready in their lives.

Eleanor had forgotten how jostling riding in the LCVP was. She remembered that first day when Junior threw up on the back of her head, then she felt sad remembering that Junior wasn't with them anymore. He was killed during a bombing one night.

Things like that, Eleanor doubted she could ever forget.

The ocean mist felt refreshing on her filthy sunburnt skin. When a producer told her she was too pale and needed some colour, Eleanor doubted that he meant this. Her body ached from weeks of dehydration, exhaustion, hunger, and constant moving. It felt prevalent as the boat parked itself next to a large cargo ship that was repurposed as a troop ship. The rope net ladder was dropped down. She remembered climbing down it the very first time what felt like an eternity ago.

 _Hands on the vertical. Feet on the horizontal._

Eleanor was among the first to climb up. She struggled to get up the first few steps, her muscles crying out in pain.

 _Come on Elle, you've given birth. You can climb up a freaking rope ladder._

And she did. She climbed up, the sun beating down on her. Her hands throbbed as the rope dug into her skin. The sun was suddenly blocked and someone reached down. She grabbed the man's hand and pulled up over the side of the boat.

The moment her feet touched the wood from the boat, it felt like all the adrenaline that had been keeping her together the last few months disappeared. She was bone tired but she wasn't about to go below deck.

Her friends made it over the side and joined her.

"It's pretty from this far away," Eleanor voiced as she stared at the picturesque island.

From here, no one would able to tell that place was where they buried Lewis and so many of their friends. No one could tell that a part of all of them died there.

"Good riddance you fucking piece of shit," Hoosier said to the pile of dirt. "You're the army's problem now."

They stood on deck until the ship was fully loaded and pulling out. Eleanor stood and watched until the island became nothing but a spec of dirt in the distance. She thought about all the horror she saw on Guadalcanal. She thought about the words Florence Kowalski said.

 _They sent us here to die._

She hoped to prove Florence wrong. She had to make it through this war.

* * *

 **This will not be the last time we hear from Florence. She is a mystery and obviously went through some trauma. I am excited to have you learn more about her.**

 **In brighter news, Guadalcanal is done. Yay! I am pretty excited of the things I have planned for Australia. I did hit a bit of a block but I am working through it.**

 **Let me know what you thought of the chapter!**


	14. It's De-Lovely

The boat ride was only a few hours. Eleanor remained topside, feeling the ocean breeze on her skin. She prayed silently for the people they lost. She prayed for Florence Kowalski. But mostly, she prayed for Violet.

Eleanor watched as Guadalcanal disappeared completely and finally Australia came into view. Her friends returned to the deck after getting a cup of coffee. The concept of coffee sounded great, but the thought of going to a claustrophobic mess hall was not her idea of a good time.

Upon docking in Australia, the first thing Eleanor heard were drums. There was a marching band playing. Hundreds of civilians were lined up at the docks cheering them on. Eleanor heard choruses of 'Heroes' and 'Well done Yanks'.

"What the Hell…?" Chuckler questioned.

Normally, Eleanor would relish in the attention from an appreciative crowd, but now she was too damn tired.

They unloaded from the troop ship into trucks. Children chased after them with bikes. People cheered in the streets. Eleanor sat close to the back of the truck. It was a shock seeing cars and well dressed people. Her hair was filthy and matted. She felt like a wild animal next to them. A filthy and mange animal. Australia looked like it was untouched by war.

They pulled up to a large stadium and unloaded the trucks. This is where they'd been billeted. Hundreds of cots lined the bleachers of the stadium. She was stopped from going to find a bunk with the other officers.

"Lieutenant Thompson, you have a separate area," the MP told her.

She figured she would. In the jungle, it didn't matter where she slept. In civilization, it does.

"I'll catch up with you soon," she told her friends.

"Sure thing, Tommy," Runner said.

Eleanor followed the MP away from the incoming men. They walked up a flight of stairs to the scorekeeper's booth. Inside, there was a cot and a foot locker. The space itself was tiny. There was no room besides the bed. The large window facing the field at least gave her the appearance of a wide space.

"Thank you," she told the MP. He left and she was left alone. She shut the door behind her.

Eleanor put her pack on the cot. There was a clang and she remembered the bottle in her bag. She pulled it out, her eyes resting on the label for Johnny Walker. She looked out the window briefly to see marines heading for the exit. The MPs sat and did nothing.

There was a knock at the door.

"Tommy!" It was Lucky's voice.

She opened the door to see Runner, Lucky, Chuckler, and Sid all standing there. She noticed a lack of Hoosier.

"The MPs are letting us walk. C'mon Tommy, let's go out on the town," Lucky urged.

Eleanor thought about her messy hair and her tattered dungarees.

"Nuh-uh, not until I look presentable," she told them.

"Ah, c'mon Tommy," Runner egged on. "You know you wanna."

She did want to go out but not while she looked like a wilderbeast. She gave them a smile.

"You boys have fun. Don't do anything stupid," she told them.

"Ah c'mon," Chuckler stated.

"See you tomorrow, fellas. Best hurry before the MPs change their minds," she told them.

Then she shut the door. Once upon a time, she'd been fun.

Eleanor did not want to be around her friends. She did not want to go out in public today. Instead, she sat on her cot and felt her heart beating heavily. A weight settled itself on her chest. She looked out her window to see mostly empty cots, save a few sleeping marines. There were a few laughing and playing cards. She couldn't help but look at the empty beds and think of all the ones they lost. She couldn't help but think of the incomplete families back home.

She was alone, she didn't have to hide her tears here. She remembered Lewis, his bright smile and eyes. Then she remembered is eyes going vacant as the life left his body. She remembered every single face of every marine that died under her hands. No amount of training could prepare someone for that.

She hadn't realized the tears started dripping from her eyes until one splashed on her hand. All those people died for one spec of dirt that doesn't even show up on a map. The brutality she witnessed in that jungle, Eleanor didn't understand how mankind could do such things. The cruelty of man knows no bounds.

* * *

At some point, Eleanor fell asleep. The loud blare of a trumpet caused her to jump right out of her cot. For a moment, she thought she was back on Guadalcanal. Then she looked around and remembered she was in the score keeper's booth. She groaned and flopped back in bed. Every single muscle in her body ached.

She finally crawled out of bed and walked down to the field where the rest of her company had gathered. All of them looked worst for wear. She guessed most of them were nursing hangovers after sneaking out last night. Corrigan looked as exhausted as he stood shaggily in front of them. She stood at the front near Runner when she heard a flop as one marine fell asleep standing and collapsed to the ground.

"Company dismissed," was all Corrigan said as he shambled off.

Eleanor looked over at her hungover friends.

"I take it you had fun?" She asked.

Chuckler burped while Lucky groaned. She laughed and shook her head.

She was very glad she didn't go last night.

About half an hour after wake up, they were told there were showers. An honest to goodness shower. And better yet, because she was the only woman around, she got first crack.

 _And they say chivalry is dead._

The shower was the most glorious thing she'd ever felt in the entire world. She shed a layer of skin as she began to scrub all the dirt from the last six months. She even sang in the shower too as her fingers ran through her hair to spread around the shampoo.

" _I've been a sinner. I've been a scamp._

 _So now I'm beginning to trim my lamp._

 _So blow, Gabriel, blow."_

That song was always one of her go to happy tunes. _Anything Goes_ was one of the musicals she'd been lucky to watch on stage. And of course, she'd seen the film a half dozen times at the cinema. This particular song always had the crowd of dancers hoping to the tune.

She could see the dirt mixing in the water. It was like she'd lost ten pounds on dirt and grime alone. Eleanor exited the shower and put on her new uniform. Finally, she was given a proper marine Grade A uniform. She slipped on her pair of stockings, miraculous really that they made it all the way here through Guadalcanal, and her skirt overtop. She noticed how thin she'd gotten. She was given back her pumps, which had been left behind in her footlocker at the last base they stayed at in Hawaii. Her wet hair was wrapped in a towel as she put on her new button up shirt. Her tie was tied perfectly and finally her green jacket lay overtop. She didn't have a blow dryer here, of course. She took out her hair from the towel and left it down temporarily until she could use her mirror to style it. There was also a line of restless marines waiting for their turn.

She went back to her room, tossed the towel on her bed and retrieved the mirror from the bottom of her bag. It was a shaving mirror she nicked away from the army. She managed to roll her hair into a Gibson roll. She didn't have much left of her tube of lipstick. She did have enough to put a coat of red on her lips. There was a small mirror in her bag, she glimpsed at herself and saw an actual woman looking back at her.

"Eleanor Thompson, you are one good looking gal," she complimented herself.

"Do you always talk to yourself like that?"

In the corner of the mirror she saw Hoosier standing there.

Though she mentally was freaking out, this woman in the mirror was confident.

"Someone has to," she replied. She turned around and locked eyes with him.

She noticed how he was all nice and clean now as well.

"I forgot what you looked like clean," she told him.

He was handsome. She'd thought that back when she first met him, but now it was like getting reintroduced to him. She thought he looked different somehow, his dark rugged brown eyes looked older. Back in New River, Hoosier had been nothing but an immature boy. He'd been nothing but a thorn in her side. He was still a thorn in her side but at least he was fun to be around. Guadalcanal changed a lot. Eleanor couldn't help but wonder if she looked any different.

"Yeah, you don't look so bad either after a little soap," he replied.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Guys told me to…"

Runner came up behind him. He cleared his throat.

"Jesus, Hoosier, I told you to get Tommy, not flirt." He looked passed Hoosier and looked at Eleanor. Hoosier looked like he was visibly annoyed. "The MPs are pretty much letting us walk again. I think, that's what Lucky said but he might still be a bit drunk… I don't know, but let's go. Chuckler, Lucky, and Sid are waiting down the hall. Tommy, first round is on me," Runner rambled excitedly.

Today she looked like a human being again.

"Well, if that's the case," she stated, "we ought to get going."

Runner clapped once victoriously.

"That's my girl."

They didn't go to a bar right away. They walked around the streets of Melbourne since Hoosier and Eleanor didn't leave the previous night. Melbourne was a beautiful city. She'd almost forgotten what pavement felt like under shoes and the gentle click's that came with walking on cement with heels.

"So, what to do? What to do?" Lucky questioned.

Eleanor rolled her eyes.

"Gwen mentioned a place last night," Sid spoke up.

"Gwen?" Eleanor asked curiously.

She could've sworn she saw Sid blush.

"Uh… she said there's a place down the street lot of the girls like to go."

"And you're just mentioning this now?" Chuckler joked. "Lead the way, Johnny Red."

They followed Sidney, passing a number of marines happily singing a bench with a bottle of liquor being shared among them. She couldn't quite hear what they were singing, but she thought it might be an off pitch rendition of _De-Lovely._

The bar was rather full. She spotted the Americans spread across the bar. Most had an Aussie girl attached to their hips. There was a band playing in the back but there wasn't a soul on the dance floor. They all sat at tables, drinking and talking merrily. No one seemed to care that it was early in the afternoon.

"Runner, if I remember, you told me that drinks were on you?" Eleanor stated.

Runner seemed to remember what he told Eleanor to 'coax' her out.

"What a gentleman," Hoosier said as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm going," he replied almost reluctantly.

"We'll find a table… or…" Eleanor stretched to see what alternatives there were. Runner and Lucky walked over to the bar leaving Eleanor, Chuckler, Hoosier, and Sid.

Sidney moved forward, his eyes going towards a pretty brunette who was sitting at a table. She looked to be waiting for something, or rather someone.

"I'll see you guys later," Sidney said as he pushed passed them towards the girl.

Then Chuckler's eyes wandered through the crowd until they landed on a girl across the joint by the band.

"See ya," he said before also taking off.

And then there were two.

"Well, I suppose in the meantime we should find a place to sit."

"What about you?" He asked. _Me?_ She wondered. "See anything you like?"

She shook her head.

"No, and I am definitely not looking," she replied.

Eleanor hadn't been on a date in seven years. After her last blunder, she certainly did not want to repeat it. Most men did not like finding out she had another man's child.

"I think I found a table," Eleanor stated as she pushed her way through the crowd.

It was a tiny round table in the middle of the place, but it was better than nothing. Eleanor and Hoosier sat down. She waved over Lucky and Runner, who were each carrying three beers.

"Guess we got two extra," she said as they sat down.

"Johnny Red and Chuckler found some dates," Hoosier explained. Eleanor took one of the pint glasses of beer and brought it to her lips. She was not a beer drinker usually.

"Speaking of… There was a broad by the bar who looked like she could use a drink," Runner stated as he picked up one of the extra beers and then went over to a pretty redhead standing by the bar.

Eleanor laughed lightly as she leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her beer. She noticed Hoosier eyeing someone across the way. She was a pretty blonde with blue eyes.

"Go for it," she encouraged.

Hoosier hesitated for one moment before drinking half his beer and then going up.

She hadn't even noticed Lucky had moved over another table and was chatting up a brunette. Eleanor rolled her eyes. _Men,_ she thought to herself.

She looked around the bar, suddenly very aware that she was alone. It was a strange and unwanted feeling after spending the last six months constantly surrounded by people. She looked around and saw all the marines laughing, smiling, living their lives.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Sid talking to the girl. They were huddled closely together. She briefly thought about what Sister Agnes would have said: _'If there isn't space for the Lord to sit, then you are much too close.'_ Sometimes she wondered if maybe she should've listened to Sister Agnes more.

She saw how Sidney's girl laughed.

 _1935_

 _Eleanor laughed as Wesley recounted a story from when he was young. They sat in the back of a restaurant. It had been two weeks since they first met. Every other night after her set, she'd sit at the bar and Wesley would bring her a drink. Two nights ago, she finally agreed to go on a date with him._

 _She'd gotten all dressed up in a dark blue dress that really made her eyes pop. Her hair was styled in faux-bob. She had her lips painted red. He did most of the talking, not that she cared much since she simply liked to to look deep into his soulful brown eyes._

"… _That's when I decided I wanted to come here, open my own place one day. A place for lost souls to find their way."_

" _Lost souls?" Eleanor questioned._

" _Artists. Drifters. People who don't have a home but want a place where they can gather."_

 _Eleanor had a smile on her face as he spoke so eloquently. She could believe in his vision._

" _But for now, I'll settle with the Ladybird. After all, they have a pretty great house band," he told her._

" _It's a wonderful dream," she told him._

" _With the world being as it is, dreams are all we have," he stated._

 _She was in awe. She'd never once met anybody who understood life as she did._

"Well…"

Eleanor looked up to see the sergeant from the Seventh Marines. She'd helped and spoken to probably two dozen marines on that day but that sergeant stuck out to her.

"If it isn't my favorite Lieutenant," he greeted with a beer in hand.

"Sergeant, I take it you're having a good time," she stated.

"Indeed, Lieutenant," he replied. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all."

She drank her beer as the sergeant sat down.

"I'm John Basilone," he introduced himself. "Never got your name last time. All the guys've just been calling you the 'Angel of Guadalcanal'."

"Eleanor Thompson," she replied. "They've really been calling me that? Good grief. They make it sound like I'm some great mythical being. It's a little too sanctimonious for my taste."

She made a note never to tell her friends about that. They would never stop calling her that and she'd just begun to accept Tommy.

"It's nice to finally put a name to the face."

He was charming, she'd give him that.

She remembered that scared man from the aid station. His arms burnt, looking for his friend. She wanted to ask if he ever found him, but the grief etched in the corners of his eyes gave her plenty of answers.

"Are you here alone?" She asked him. She supposed that was close enough to asking him.

John Basilone shrugged.

"My buddy JP is somewhere around here, sulking because he misses his wife," he explained. She recalled him mentioning the friend he was looking for wasn't named JP.

"I can imagine how hard it must be to leave the love of your life behind," she replied.

But really, she didn't have to imagine it at all. The guilt swelled in her chest once more.

"You here alone?" He asked.

Her eyes darted around the bar, she found a few of her friends scattered amongst the crowd.

"Like your friend, I came here with people but they all got… distracted."

"Let me buy you a drink as a thank you for keeping my arm from getting infected," he offered.

Eleanor knew there were always ulterior motives when a man buys a woman drink.

The song changed to an up-tempo crowd favorite of _Chattanooga Choo-Choo_. A few were going to the dance floor. She had to get her mind off of things.

"Let's dance," she suggested to John Basilone.

"I'm not much of a dancer."

"One dance as a thank you," she replied.

"I might step on your feet a few times."

"I did fix your arm."

He huffed in resignation. "Alright."

She led him to the dance floor. How long had it been since she'd been on an actual dance floor? She'd gone maybe twice after Violet was born. But between nursing school and a baby, she didn't have the time for fun.

It probably wasn't appropriate to be dancing with an enlisted man, but it wasn't as if she was going to do anything except dance. She wanted to stop thinking and feeling guilty for a moment. She knew dancing did just that. Not that Sergeant Basilone was much of a dancer. For most of the song, she had to avoid his clumsy feet. His hand rested on her lower back but not any lower.

 _Respectful._

She flinched as he stepped on her foot again.

 _Clumsy_.

"I did warn you," he reminded.

Eleanor still kept her smile on her lips. This was the most fun she'd had in ages. Even if her feet were being stomped on.

"Why don't you follow my lead?" She suggested.

She widened the gap between them. She began to sway to the music, her feet going side to side. John looked down at his feet and began to follow along.

"One, two, one, two," she instructed. "And look up. Girls like it when you look in their eyes."

"You sound like my ma," he said fondly. "She tried to teach me when I was a kid. 'Every good man should know to dance.'"

"Smart woman," she said with a smile.

"I, of course, ignored everything and ran outside to play with my friends," he added.

He followed the movements.

"Now you're getting it. Let's add in a box," she said. "Follow my footing. One, two, three, four."

He stepped on her feet a few times but as _Chattanooga Choo-Choo_ finished, he was starting to lead. A few swing moves were even thrown in there. She was caught off guard as he dipped her. The dancers started clapping and the band began to play another tune.

If Eleanor had been younger and a bit more naïve, she may have just fallen in love with Sergeant John Basilone on that dance floor. But she was not naïve or young. She did not fall for whimsical charm. Not anymore.

"Mind if I cut in?" A sweet sounding Aussie voice asked. Eleanor looked behind her to see a pretty redhead girl.

"Uh…" Sergeant Basilone hesitated.

"Sure," Eleanor agreed happily. She looked at Sergeant Basilone and said in a lower voice, "remember, lead with the left."

She then gave him a wink before walking off the dance floor. She needed to give her feet a break. She forgot how much fun it was to be completely carefree and dance. She forgot what it was like not to feel burdened.

Then the guilt settled its way back in and suddenly it felt like she couldn't breathe anymore in the crowded bar.

She saw Runner was now kissing the girl he'd been talking to. Chuckler and Sid along with their dates were on the crowded dance floor. Lucky was nowhere to be seen. Hoosier was still talking to the blonde girl at the bar.

Eleanor pushed her way back to the front door. She stepped out of the building, taking in the somewhat fresh air. She flinched at the bright sun. She moved over to the side. Cars and people strode passed her. It was foreign to her… civilization after months of the jungle.

She could feel her hands beginning to shake. She took in a deep breath to remind herself that she wasn't back on that island.

* * *

Eleanor ended up walking all the way back to the cricket field alone. She snuck back in the way they went earlier and made it back to her room. It did her good to walk.

Along the way, she found herself humming the tune of _Salvation Lassie of Mine._ She knew the song from a long time ago. It was a faded vague memory but one that filled her with sense of comfort. For the life of her, she couldn't remember any details of the memory, only the feeling and the music. She hadn't heard it years. The thought of it had disappeared long ago. Strange how the mind works.

 _They say it's in Heaven that all angels dwell. But I've come to learn they're on earth as well._

Eleanor opened the door to her room. She fell onto her cot and stared up at the ceiling.

 _Mama loves you, to the moon and back._

She pulled herself up off her cot and grabbed the letter paper from her bag and her book to write on.

' _Dear Anna,_

 _A lot has changed since my last letter. Finally, we left that horrid island behind. Now, we're stationed in Australia for a rest. I had a real proper shower today. It felt as thought I were a snake shedding a layer of skin. No longer do I resemble a wild animal. I am myself again._

 _I went out to a bar today with Hoosier, Lucky, Sid, Chuckler, and Runner. From the moment we walked in, they were already off flirting with the local women. I remember the days when I could keep a man's attention for longer than two minutes._

 _After six months of constantly not knowing whether or not you will see another sunrise, I can't blame them for it. I too am happy to simply be alive…'_

She stopped writing for a moment. She knew she needed to tell Anna about Florence. Anna would know what to say, she always did. Her hesitation came with how to phrase it.

'… _Do you remember how you told me about Claire Rousseau? At first we thought she was the only one like me, but we were wrong. I met another woman on Guadalcanal. Her name is Florence Kowalski and she is in the army. But it was not like writing to Claire. Florence Kowalski wanted nothing to do with me. The way she spoke, it was as if she had already given up on life. What a terrible way to live. Is it wrong of me to want to write her? She must be terribly lonely. One has to be lonely to be so bitter._

 _I think about our friend and I think of who she might be in this world. I cannot let her become like Florence Kowalski._

 _How can I teach her about joy and love when the world keeps trying to tear itself apart? How can I teach her from all the way over here? I knew it would be difficult to leave, but most days it feels like my heart is being ripped in two._

 _Annie, I miss you more than words can express._

 _Please, stay safe._

 _Love always,_

 _Ellie.'_

As she finished the letter, a few tears stained the page. On Guadalcanal at least there was distraction. In Melbourne, there was nothing. Everything that had been bouncing in her mind came rushing out. Anna would understand. She always did.

* * *

 **I am so sorry for not updating for over a month. It's been a mix of blocked and exhaustion from work. Now I've started school again and it's already getting crazy. I'm currently in the process of writing a short film that I hope will be filmed next semester and I'll be working on a documentary this semester. On top of that, I also work about four shifts a week at my job. I've been prioritizing writing my own original content over Eleanor but I have not nor will I abandon her. However, I can't guarantee that my updates will be consistent. I'm going to do my best to update at least once a month. I'm sorry about the delay and inconsistency.**

 **Please let me know what you thought of the chapter. I do love hearing from you.**


	15. White Christmas

_December 25_ _th_ _1940 – Chicago, Illinois_

Miracles do happen. Mrs. Winston gave her the day off. She'd been working for the woman for a few months since she lost her last job as an in-home care nurse. Mrs. Winston was a kind woman. She was old and needed a personal care nurse. Her children came around once in a while but they all had their own lives. Mrs. Winston knew about Violet. On occasion, Eleanor brought her daughter along if she couldn't find a sitter.

Anna miraculously had also gotten the day off. Well, to an extent, she worked until the early morning and had the rest of the day before going back to work for ten. Eleanor knew her sister would still be awake by nine. If she wasn't, on Christmas Day, Violet would make sure she was. Eleanor and Violet had gone to Midnight Mass, a Christmas Eve tradition. Despite her wanting to stay awake after Mass to try and spot Santa Clause, Violet always fell asleep on the bus ride home. Eleanor would carry her home from their stop. After putting her to bed, Eleanor would wrap Violet's gifts and put them under the small tree. She always managed to get at a good deal on it. John, who worked at the store, was sweet on her.

Eleanor was in that state between deep slumber and being awake. She didn't know what time. It was, but she knew it wouldn't be long her little clock would ring.

"Mama! Mama! Wake up!"

Ah, there it is.

Violet jumped on the bed. They shared one while Anna got her own room in the small two bedroom apartment.

"Mama! Santa came! Santa came!" She exclaimed excitedly.

Five more minutes.

"Wake up!"

Eleanor rolled over. Violet ran out of their bedroom and over to Anna's. She sat up in bed. A small smile on her lips as she. Listened to Violet banging on Auntie Anna's door. She got up, slipped on her robe, and headed out of the room.

Violet had to eat breakfast first before they got to the tree. The day before, Eleanor had managed to get a couple of cinnamon buns from the bakery down the street. She heated them up in the oven and they each got one.

Only on Christmas morning would wolf down her food. Eleanor sipped her coffee as Violet bounced in her seat. Anna and Eleanor never had that, a proper Christmas morning. At least not one they could remember. This was something she always wanted to give her children.

"Okay," Eleanor said as she finished the last bite of her bun.

Violet took off like a shot towards the tree across the room in the living room. Three packages. Lay beneath it. Anna and Eleanor collectively shook their heads and followed the bounding four year old.

Violet waited patiently by the tree. There was an order to things, first it was Anna, then Eleanor's, and finally Santa's. Anna and Eleanor did not exchange gifts. It was hard enough to save for Violet's gifts.

Anna gave Violet her gift. Eleanor sat back on the chair, still sipping her coffee. Violet unwrapped the gift. It was a book, it always was a book. This year, Anna gave her a copy of _Peter Pan_. Eleanor had a smile on her face.

"This is your mom's favorite book. This is a big girl book."

Eleanor found a copy of _Peter Pan_ in the donation bins at the orphanage. It wasn't a book deemed 'appropriate' for them, but she managed to sneak the copy under her dress and read it under the moonlight. She barely knew how to read but she found herself sounding out certain words. Anna would help her figure out the words.

"Mama, can you read it to me?" Violet asked.

"We can read it together," Eleanor declared.

She could see the excitement light up in Violet's eyes.

"Now, what do we say to Auntie Anna?" She asked.

Violet hugged Anna and thanked her.

Eleanor put her coffee cup down on the small coffee table next to her chair. In a small chair next to her, Polly sat. That was Polly's chair. It was made out of a wooden crate Eleanor had found behind the bakery. Anna helped her build it for Violet's last birthday. _Who needs a man, really?_ Anna had asked after they finished. The chair was uneven and a little ugly, but Violet liked to pretend it was a throne in Wonderland. Last year, Anna had given Violet Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and needless to say Violet had been obsessed.

Violet went under the tree and pulled out her package. The box was wrapped in yesterday's newspaper.

"This one is from me," she told her.

Violet ripped the paper open.

"What section?" Anna whispered.

"The Arts pages," Eleanor replied. She could've sworn she saw Anna sigh in relief. She knew her sister wanted the political editorials. She liked to read them and rant about whether she agreed or disagreed. Eleanor had no interest in it. She got her news from Anna. Why did she need to read it? Especially since lately it was all about the war that had started in Europe. But they weren't at war, so she didn't need to care about Hitler in Germany.

Violet opened the box and gasped at the dress inside. Eleanor had seen the dress in a shop on the way to work. It was a pink cotton dress with puffed short sleeves and a white pleated collar. She saved for it for weeks.

"Oh Mama, it's so pretty," she said excited.

"Now this isn't a dress for every day," Eleanor explained. "Your old Sunday dress is getting too small. This is only for special occasions."

"Yes, Mama," Violet said. "Thank you!"

She stood up and hugged Eleanor.

"Vi, I think you have one more," Anna said.

Eleanor let Violet go. She grabbed the last package. This one wrapped in brown paper. Originally, Eleanor had planned on getting another doll, but the only one Violet ever played with was Polly.

Violet opened the present and cried out in joy.

"Santa got me a puppy!" Violet cheered. She hugged the wooden dog tightly to her chest. She could see the tears in her eyes.

It was a See-Em-Walk dog Eleanor spotted in a catalogue. A little wooden dog on a string that walked when it was pulled and dragged. Her daughter loved animals, dogs especially. She figured this was much less work than a real dog.

Eleanor tried not to look to satisfied. She knew Violet would love it. But this was Santa's gift, not hers. She spoiled Violet this year, but now that she had a stable job, it made it easier to justify spending the money. Though, Violet's reaction was enough.

As Violet began to drag her new dog, which she'd already named Alice, and Anna was laughing and playing with her, Eleanor couldn't help but think about how the chips were finally starting to fall in place.

But nothing ever lasts.

* * *

 _December 25_ _th_ _1942 – Melbourne, Australia_

It was too hot to be Christmas. There was absolutely no chance of there ever being snow here. Despite all the Christmas's spent in LA, Eleanor always associated the holiday with snow. They all missed home. Eleanor couldn't stop thinking about what Violet was doing.

They tried to think about anything but home. Eleanor had a shift during the day. It was Christmas, but there were still quite a few marines with illness, or VD, or the occasional rolled ankle. For the most part they could be treated at the aid station and then go back or to then be sent to a hospital for further treatment.

If she were being honest, Eleanor wanted to work. She wanted to keep her mind busy. The radio played softly next to her. She couldn't even concentrate on her book, though maybe that was because she'd read it a dozen times and she was bored of it.

The aid station was not too far away from her room in the score keepers booth. There was a small infirmary they converted. There were only two men in the aid station. They were up and playing cards with each other. Both of them were getting over a flu. They'd be fine in a few days after some real rest. It had only been a few weeks since they'd come to Australia, and most of them spent their time running around. No one actually took the time to recuperate properly. Though, maybe it made it easier that way. They didn't have to think all the horrific things they'd seen and done if they kept moving.

She tuned into the radio. A melody she didn't recognize began to play. She recognized Bing Crosby's voice immediately. She always found his films hilarious. The song was new.

' _I'm dreaming of a white Christmas._

 _Just like the ones I used to know.'_

She stopped moving, she turned up the volume, and suddenly the two men stopped playing. She thought for one moment that they would tell her to turn it down, but to her surprise, they put the cards down and began to listen.

The song was everything they all felt today. Every single one of them longed for the Christmas's they knew. Eleanor longed for that day back in that terrible two bedroom apartment with Anna and Violet while they tugged Sammy along. The last good Christmas. And then everything started going wrong.

She hadn't realized she'd begun to tear up until a tear slid off her cheek and hit the cover of her book. The men each had tears of homesickness rolling down their cheeks. They were safe, but they all knew this was temporary. They didn't know when they'd be going, but they knew they would. All she wanted was to go home.

The door opened. Eleanor looked up to see Runner and Chuckler there.

"Hey Tommy, what time are you…" Runner started but then read the room. He went quiet as the chorus of Bing Crosby's song started once more.

' _I'm dreaming of a white Christmas…_

 _Just like the ones I used to know._

 _May your days be merry and bright._

 _And may all your Christmas's be white…'_

Runner and Chuckler seemed to take in the song too. She saw the looks flash across their faces. The same one she saw on the other two marines sitting in their cots. Today was hard. They couldn't be with their families. They were off fighting a war instead of spending Christmas with the ones they love.

' _May your days be merry and bright…_

 _And may all your Christmas's be white.'_

By the end of the song, they were all wiping tears from their eyes.

And then things went back to how they were. Business as usual. Runner and Chuckler came to ask when she'd be free. They couldn't leave the base tonight, but they were going to have 'Christmas Dinner' in the mess hall and then probably find a corner no one really knew about and have a few drinks. But even as Chuckler and Runner left, and the other two marines continued playing cards, there was a collective moment of sadness between them. All because of that damn Bing Crosby.

* * *

 **Okay, okay, I'm sorry guys for the 4 month hiatus. This past semester was a killer. I made a documentary! So that means I barely slept at all. I was honestly too exhausted to do anything but go to work and do homework.**

 **I hope you all had a great holiday.**

 **I'm going to publish another chapter this weekend. It's almost done.**

 **Also, there is a reason I decided to write this chapter. I started listening to this podcast called You Must Remember This (honestly 10/10 would recommend). One episode talked about Bing Crosby during WW2. His song White Christmas was the most requested song. It is, I believe still, the highest selling song in history. It was the perfect song for soldiers to remember what they were fighting. As soon as I listened to that episode, I knew I had to write Eleanor's reaction to the very first time she listened to it.**

 **I'll post something in the next couple of days. I'm actually starting to get momentum.**

 **Let me know what you thought!**


	16. Over The Rainbow

_January - 1943_

They went AWOL again. It was becoming a recurring theme. Now they knew every single way out of the cricket arena. Her hope was that the MPs hadn't figured them all out yet.

As soon as they cleared away from the cricket stadium, Lucky darted away. He was apparently going on another walk with a girl he'd met day one. The rest of them headed off, once again, to a bar. Eleanor tried to get out of it, opting to instead go to a movie or something, but her friends weren't having it. So, reluctantly she went with them.

A pianist played music in the background. Eleanor sat at the bar with Gibson and Runner. She was still nursing her first drink. Runner was on his fifth. Chuckler was dancing with some girl and Hoosier was talking to another at a table.

She saw Sidney at a table with Gwen and an older man. He looked nervous. She partly contemplated going to rescue him, but she knew it wouldn't be doing him any favors. She had only officially met Gwen once or twice in passing. Eleanor kept her distance for now. She couldn't help but be reminded of herself at that age. She saw that same innocence in Gwen. The difference was, she knew Sidney wasn't Wesley. She hoped, at least, that he wasn't. She was sure she'd kick his butt if she ever found out he was.

The piano started up a familiar tune.

"You're just an angel in the sky…" Runner and Gibson began singing.

They weren't awful. Gibson was a fair tenor.

Eleanor snorted at the two intoxicated men. She spun around on the bar stool and faced the crowd of people. Her eyes drifted over to Hoosier at the table with the blonde.

As the song came to an end, she saw Runner and Gibson getting up from the bar and stumbling to God knows where. She should go look for them, get them back to base…

"'Scuse me, miss," an Australian accented voice said.

She turned around and saw an attractive man leaning at the bar next to her. He had dark brown hair and even darker eyes. He was in an Australian military uniform. No bars, no stripes.

"Hello?" She greeted questionably.

"A pretty girl like you deserves a good dance," he said.

Eleanor suppressed a snort.

"Oh, gosh, if only I hadn't twisted my ankle," she replied.

"How 'bout a drink?" He asked.

She held up her glass.

"Thanks, but I'm perfectly quenched."

 _Take the hint, buddy._

But he didn't.

"Ah, c'mon Sheila, one drink," he pestered.

"My name's not Sheila."

"Then tell me your name," he responded.

"Look, I've gotta go find my friends," she said as she tried to walk past him, but he was covering her path. The man was completely up in her space.

"C'mon, Sheila, I'm off to the front tomorrow… Let's have a little fun before I go off to war."

She knew exactly what he meant by fun. She tried to get away from him. _Please, just go._

She'd faced a jungle full of Japanese soldiers who wanted nothing more than to kill her. She was a damn marine. This idiot in a uniform didn't scare her.

"Get out of my way."

But he didn't. In fact, the Australian soldier had that look in his eyes she knew very well. He was cornering her, boxing her in.

This man was used to getting what wanted. Not terrible looking, he must not have been used to the word 'no'.

And the stench of liquor on his breath was not helping. She shifted uncomfortably. Her back was pressed against the bar.

She was trying to look for any way of escape.

"Hey!"

The soldier turned around and Eleanor looked over his shoulder. There stood Hoosier.

"Back off, mate, this has nothing to do with you," the soldier stated.

"She's telling you no," Hoosier said pointedly. "So, I suggest you walk away."

The music was still blaring and life around the bar continued on as normal.

The soldier stepped towards Hoosier. He stood about a half inch down from Hoosier's gaze. The air between them was tense. Eleanor side stepped away from the soldier and in between the two men.

"Now, now boys," she stated coming between them. "Let's not have a row in here. Private, I think it's about time you stepped out for air."

The soldier held Hoosier's gaze for one moment before he finally turned away and left.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah."

She was okay because of him. She didn't want to think about what could have potentially happened if Hoosier hadn't stepped in. She looked at him, standing up tall like a knight in shining armor.

It was then the door to the bar opened and the MP's came charging in.

"Every marine in this is establishment will present a pass or will be sent back to their billet," the MP announced.

"Shit," she cursed.

No one had a pass. No one had wanted to stay on base on such a lovely day.

The MPs knew that.

Some drunk marine whipped his bottle between the two MPs. With a shatter on the wall, everyone swiftly began to move. Eleanor and Hoosier started towards the back with the rest of the retreating Marines, but the exit was bottled.

In a panic, Eleanor looked around for a possible escape. A staircase caught her eye. She grabbed Hoosier by the hand.

"Come on," she said pulling him away from the crowd and then up the stairs.

They ran up the stairs, Eleanor cursing her skirt. In the real world, she'd always been more comfortable in a dress than a pair of pants any day, but then she spent a considerable amount of time in a jungle in dungarees. It had been weeks, but she was still getting back in the routine of wearing a skirt when not in PT.

When they got to the top, they were in a room probably rented for private parties. There were tables piled up in the corner, a small bar on the left side and a small stage right across. She spotted the metal ladder of a fire escape.

It was the only way out and they knew it. Eleanor knew climbing down. One of these in heels would provide certain problems. She kicked them off.

"You first," she said as she ushered Hoosier towards the window. He opened it and climbed out. In the distance, she could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs.

Eleanor climbed out and remembered to shut the window behind her. With her heels in hand, she began to climb down the ladder. Hoosier was below her. A thought occurred to her.

"Don't you dare look up," she warned.

She heard him snort from below. She came off the last step and they were in an alley between the bar and the shop next door.

Eleanor slipped her shoes back on.

"If we go on the main road, they won't catch us," she assured. "Not with everyone else slipping out the back."

"Lead the way," he said.

And they went. They acted casual as they strode down the main street.

* * *

They found a nearby park. Eleanor and Hoosier sat on a park bench across from a small playground. She found herself looking at the children, her heart tightening as she watched a mother push her little girl on a swing.

"Think Runner, Chuckler, and Sid got away?" Hoosier asked.

"Probably," she replied distractedly.

The little girl was giggling.

"Higher!" she squealed.

Eleanor swallowed the growing lump in her throat. It had been almost a year since she'd last seen Violet. She wondered how tall she was now. If her hair was still long. Had she lost a tooth? Eleanor had been there for the big milestones… first steps, first words, but now she was missing so much. Every day she fought the urge to tell the higher-ups about Violet and get sent home. But Eleanor had been on the brink of starvation before she entered the navy. She would never put Violet through that again.

She also thought about her friends. Eleanor saw Hoosier in her corner of her eye. She knew she could trust them. Hoosier had followed her in the woods during a retreat. Runner, Chuckler, Lucky, and Sid have had her back since the very beginning. In her heart she knew she should tell them the truth, but she was worried they would hate her for it.

"You okay?" Hoosier asked.

"Hm?"

"That asshole back at the bar."

"Oh. Him," she replied. "I'm okay. Sorry I ruined your date."

He shrugged. "It's alright. She spent most of the time talking about her pet ferrets. Three of 'em. Named: Buster, Mabel, and Charlie."

Eleanor bit back a laugh.

"I was looking for a way out."

"Then I'm not so sorry."

"Tell me somethin', Tommy, why do you sit there alone at the bar and wait?" Hoosier asked.

She shrugged.

"What else is there to do?" She asked.

"I'm sure there are plenty of guys in there who'd love to be something to do," Hoosier stated.

She fake gasped. "How vulgar of you."

"Is there someone back home?"

Everyone always tried to find out about life back home.

She shook her head.

"There was a long time ago," she admitted. "No one since."

"Hard act to follow?"

She stared at the little girl on the swing. "Something like that."

His position seemed to shift a little.

Across the park she saw four familiar figures.

"Hoosier? Tommy?" Runner asked when he saw them sitting on the bench. He was followed by Chuckler, Sid, and Gwen.

"Guess they made it out alright," Hoosier replied.

The two got up and walked over to their friends.

* * *

They didn't go back to base. Not on a beautiful day like this. They didn't go to another bar either. Gwen told them about a park by an off-shoot of the Yarra River. It was a beautiful little spot. There were large weeping willows billowing over the water. The sun was shining brightly in the sky. She could hear birds singing in the trees. It was something out of a fairytale.

Gwen and Sid had gone for a walk around the park. The rest of them sat by the water. This was the first time she felt fully relaxed. It was calm, quiet. There were black swans floating gently in the water. She'd never seen anything like them.

The lush grass beneath her hands felt like a cushion. She lay back on the grass and stared up at the sky. A few white fluffy clouds hung in the sky.

There was a group of girls sitting at a nearby picnic bench. She could see Runner and Chuckler looking over their way. The two didn't hesitate as they stood up to go towards them.

To her surprise, Hoosier stayed in the grass next to her.

"Aren't you going to go?" She asked him.

"Nah… Can't deal with anymore ferrets."

She laughed.

"If ferrets aren't your type, what is?" Eleanor asked.

"Why d'you wanna know?" He asked.

Despite having lived with Hoosier in a foxhole, Eleanor only knew a few stories from back home.

"Making conversation," she replied.

He was quiet for a moment.

"I like a girl that can make me laugh," he told her. "What about you?"

Eleanor thought about it a moment.

"I guess… I like it when a man challenges me… I guess… respects me," she shrugged.

"Did he?" Hoosier asked.

"Who?" She replied.

"The guy," he answered.

"Oh…"

She'd almost forgotten her brief mention of Wesley.

"He… he definitely challenged me," she said. "Not always in the right ways. And he respected me… at first at least."

"What happened?" Hoosier asked.

"I became more successful," she explained. "I was starting to make it and he didn't like playing second."

For so long, talking about Wesley felt like a wound that kept reopening, but now it was easier. Maybe, because of all the things she'd seen recently, she realized that her past with Wesley was tiny in comparison.

"Well, he's an idiot," Hoosier replied.

She had a small smile on her face. For a moment, she blushed. Then she shook it away when she remembered it was just Hoosier.

"And you?" Eleanor asked. "Any girls back home make you laugh?"

He shrugged. "A few here and there, but nothing ever stuck."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Timing was wrong."

And as she knew, timing was everything.

* * *

 _1935_

" _I got it!" Eleanor exclaimed in joy as she came through the door._

" _Got what?" Wesley asked, not looking up from the bar as he counted bottles of rum._

" _The part!" She exclaimed. He still didn't look at her. "You know, the movie I auditioned for? Finally, the studio is making me a leading lady! Can you believe it?"_

 _Still nothing._

" _Wesley?" She asked._

" _That's great," he mumbled unenthusiastically._

" _Isn't it?" She wasn't reading into his lack of tone. "Mr. Bergman thinks I can be the next Jean Harlow! How amazing is that?"_

 _Wesley scoffed at that._

" _What?" Eleanor asked._

" _Darling, you're a lot of things, but you're not a Harlowe."_

 _Her eyes widened at the statement._

" _Why are you being like this?" Eleanor pleaded. Wesley had been so short with her these days. She couldn't think of what she'd done wrong._

" _The bank turned down the loan," he admitted. "All that work… it's coming to nothing."_

 _Eleanor instantly felt horrible._

" _I-I'm sorry, Wesley."_

 _But Wesley went back to ignoring her as he turned to take stock of the bar._

* * *

 _February 1943_

Eleanor stood among the crowd of men in her Class A's. They were watching as Sergeant John Basilone was receiving his Medal of Honor. She could see the grief on his face as they recounted his night of heroics. She knew he was going back to that night. Since the day she danced with him, Eleanor only encountered Sergeant Basilone a few times in passing at the cricket stadium. He always seemed to be carrying something heavy on his shoulders. Now, she supposed, she understood what that was.

Since their arrival in Melbourne, there was no talk about what was to come. They weren't doing much in the way of training. Aside from physical training during the day, there wasn't anything else. They were told to rest and recuperate. She supposed soon they would be back to work. So far, they hadn't gotten new replacements yet, but she knew they were coming. It was inevitable.

The man Eleanor saw on the stage was not the same man she danced with. He wasn't even the same man she encountered at the aid station. How easy it was to bounce from character to character. This stoic man was the picture marine. He held himself tall. There was no ounce of cockiness. His stare remained hard, strong. She looked at him standing in front of a crowd of marines but saw that frightened young man with the burnt hands.

They marched after the ceremony. Eleanor was at the front of H/2/1, just behind Corrigan. Then they had the rest of the day off.

Surprisingly, Sid and Lucky were without girlfriends. Even more surprising, they were taking a walk alongside the water at the marina. It was a welcomed change. There was only so much time she was willing to spend in a bar. Especially after last time.

Eleanor fell towards the back of the group. She watched the few sail boats in the marina. She'd always dreamed of being on one of those boats. A troop ship was not the same. There was nothing romantic about a troop ship.

Sid had fallen back in step with her.

"I'm glad you're here," she told him sincerely. "It's been a while since it was just us."

"I'm sorry about that," he said, like a kid being scolded by his mother.

"Don't be… I get it. Love is all consuming," she replied. "How is it going with Gwen?"

Sid had a smile on his face as soon as she mentioned the younger woman.

"I-I need some advice," he admitted.

"Advice?" She asked.

"Well… you're a woman… so…"

"What do you need?" She asked.

"Well… I want to do something special. I think she's getting tired of going to a bar. I like her… but I'm no good at all this dating stuff. Before it was take a girl to a football game or to homecoming… They don't even have football here," Sid rambled.

Eleanor snickered.

"Every time I ask her… What do girls like?" He asked.

"Well… girls are pretty simple. What does she like to do?" Eleanor asked.

"She likes the movies… and dancing."

"Well, there you go," she said. "What you do is you take her out to a fancy dinner, then to a nice dance hall. I'm not talking about a bar that also happens to have a dance floor. I'm talking about an actual dance hall that has a band playing live music."

She listed.

"Then you take her on a walk under the stars," she added.

"That really what girls want?" He asked.

Eleanor shrugged. "Men always like to think that girls are these fantastical beings, but really, all we want is to be respected. To be listened to. It's that easy."

She wished someone had told Wesley that. Or maybe someone had, but along the way he'd forgotten. Or maybe that was just men.

 _Stop._

Sid was a good kid. He wasn't Wesley. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

They stopped at a coffee shop. Eleanor made them go in. There wasn't much for the baked goods because of rationing, but she didn't care. They sat outside on the patio with the sun beating down on them. A cup of coffee in front of them.

They joked around. She listened in great detail about how Hoosier brought a cow on the roof of his school as a prank. Chuckler said he could top that and told a story about how they filled the principal's office with potatoes.

"Potatoes, really?" Lucky questioned.

"It was either that or walnuts. Potatoes would take less time," Chuckler replied.

Eleanor laughed.

"But, of course, my being the master of stealth, I never got caught," Chuckler recounted.

"Bullshit," Hoosier countered.

"No, it's true! Got my diploma two days later."

"So, it wasn't so much you getting away with it, they just let you go," Eleanor added.

"Oh, like you could've topped that," Chuckler replied.

"Yeah, Tommy, what were you like in high school?" Lucky asked.

She didn't know what to tell them.

"I…" She thought about it for a moment. "I used to sneak into ballet classes."

If she told them half of what she'd done as a kid, Chuckler would even blush.

"Ooohh, big time hooligan here," Chuckler teased.

"So, you were a ballet thief?" Lucky added.

"Hey, at the time, it was a big thing."

Sister Margaret made her scrub the kitchen floors for two weeks as penance. Sister Isabelle, kind as ever, brought her back.

' _When God gives talent, we should use it.'_ That was the only explanation she would give.

They stayed at the café a long time. At one point, Eleanor and Chuckler went up and bought all the cookies from the bakery.

"This is nice," Eleanor told Chuckler. "I'll admit, I've missed it being just the six of us, and not at a bar."

"Yeah… It was all Hoosier's idea."

"Hoosier?" She questioned.

"Yeah, he talked us into it," he stated.

Eleanor looked over and spotted Hoosier sitting at the table, laughing at something Runner said. A lit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

Why would he do that?

"Your order," the woman behind the counter called out.

"Thank you," she said as she reached for the bag.

These days, Eleanor was constantly being surprised by him.

* * *

 **Haha remember that time I said I would publish two days after the last chapter and didn't? I'm so sorry. I was caught up in school (I directed a short film!) and haven't had much time. Honestly, I'm not too crazy about this chapter, but it sets up some things for later. I hope you all enjoyed it though!**


	17. Anything Goes

_March 1943_

It had become a regular occurrence of not going to the bar. At least, not every day. Today, they all went to the beach. Lucky's girlfriend was not there, though he promised that he would introduce her soon. Gwen wasn't there either. Once more, it was just the group. Gibson had tagged along as well.

Eleanor always loved the feeling of sand between her toes. As soon as they got to the beach, she'd taken off her shoes and her stockings. They were still dressed in their uniforms, but jackets were taken off, ties removed, and trousers rolled up. There was a pier off to the right. A few people laid on the sand.

They'd found a ball. Eleanor put a blanket down and pulled out her new journal. She was writing a letter to Anna.

'… _I think sometimes it's harder here than it was in Guadalcanal. That isn't to say that I would ever go back… but there, it felt as though I knew what I was doing. Here, all I do is sit and wait. I can see it in the men around me too, we all want to be home…'_

She heard someone plop down in the sand next to her. She looked over to see Hoosier.

"Shouldn't you be playing?" Eleanor asked.

"Taking a break," he told her.

"Maybe it's for the best. I've seen you play and you're not all that good," Eleanor teased.

"Oh, like you could do better," he replied mockingly.

She couldn't. She was quite terrible.

"Fair point."

"Besides, not like you can play in that skirt," he added.

She took that as a challenge.

"You do remember that I did beat you in a race, right?" She replied.

"And I think a rematch might be in order," he said.

"I'm in a skirt. So, I'm at a bit of a disadvantage," she stated.

"Well, then I guess that gives me a fighting chance," Hoosier replied.

"In your dreams," she replied with a smirk on her face.

The rules were simple. They would race to the pier and back. Eleanor hiked up her skirt as she got in position. They were running on the edge of the water, the only place where there was some sort of solid ground.

"On your mark," Chuckler called. "Ready, set…"

Eleanor looked over at Hoosier and smirked. He was going down.

"Go!"

Eleanor took off like a shot.

Hoosier was ahead. Not by far, but still a comfortable lead.

She was cursing her damn skirt. It was riding up awkwardly. She never thought she'd long for the days of pants.

She breathed in and out as her bare feet hit the wet sand.

She made it to the pier two hairs short of Hoosier.

"Gotta be faster!" Hoosier taunted as he ran away.

 _All in do time._

She pushed herself with every stride. This was all part of her strategy.

They were getting to the last stride and she pushed harder, her heart beginning to pound.

She could smell gunpowder and burning gasoline. She heard the cracking in the distance from exploding shells.

 _RUN!_

Her feet pounded harder. Her steps became more frantic. She wasn't just running now. She was running for her life.

She flew by Runner and stopped. Suddenly, she remembered where she was.

She looked over and saw Hoosier with his hands on his knees huffing and puffing. They were right along the edge of the water. As the waves crashed on the beach, it ran over their feet.

"So, Hoosier, how's it feel to be beat by a girl _twice_?" Chuckler asked.

Looks like she did end up winning.

"Don't take it too hard, Hoosier. It takes a real man to acknowledge when he's been beaten," Eleanor teased.

Hoosier smirked as another swell came in and he splashed water on her. Eleanor gasped at the surprised of water.

"Oh you didn't," she said.

Another swell came in and he splashed her again. This time high enough that it hit her in the face.

 _This means war._

She splashed Hoosier hard in the face. He retaliated, but Eleanor dodged it and it got Chuckler. Then Chuckler joined in and soaked Lucky with water and Runner. Sid and Gibson joined in.

They were laughing like a bunch of school children as they played in the water.

Eleanor didn't care that her uniform was getting drenched as she went deeper in the water until it reached her knees. More water, more ammunition.

That is what she thought until she noticed all of them coming towards her.

"Oh no," she warned.

They stood in a circle, all of them at a stalemate. They stood completely still, waiting on someone to make the first move. They kept getting pushed forward by the small waves. She could feel the growing tension.

It was Runner that broke it as he moved his arm and splashed Gibson in the face. Eleanor splashed Lucky, and then someone tackled her under water. She swallowed a mouthful of salt water and then pushed herself back up. Hoosier was also breaching the surface.

They ended up being a bit farther away from the rest of the group. Hoosier was close to her. So close, she could see the water drops in his eye lashes. He did have nice eyes. And a nice face. And his smile, it was infectious. She remembered thinking how handsome he was that very first boat training exercise. Her eyes darted down to his lips for a second.

 _Stop that,_ the logical part of her brain spoke.

She blinked, the moment fading away. Instead, she took this moment where his guard was down and splashed him with the water before swimming/running away.

 _Too close._

* * *

Eleanor was walking down the streets of Melbourne. Most of her friends were out with their girlfriends, save for Hoosier and Runner who had to stay behind for their shift of guard duty. It was a good thing Hoosier wasn't around. Not after the beach.

She decided to take the day for herself. She hadn't done it in a long time. Her plan was to treat herself to dinner and a movie. In her old life, she wouldn't be caught dead anywhere alone. Now, she spent most of her time surrounded by men. She loved them, but they were exhausting.

Of course, plans sometimes change. She walked to a lovely little restaurant Gwen told her about. She was seated at a table by the front window. She ordered dinner and pulled out her new Agatha Christie book. She was a sucker for a good murder mystery. This was what she needed.

"Lieutenant Thompson!"

Eleanor huffed a little as she turned to see Sergeant Basilone.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Just… having dinner."

"Alone?"

"Mmhmm," she said. "And you?"

"Yeah… I was supposed to have a date but she cancelled."

"Sorry to hear that."

He stood there for a moment. Eleanor looked down longingly at her book before marking her page and sticking it in her bag.

"Would you like to sit?" She asked motioning to the chair in front of him.

"Yeah, sure," he said a little too quickly before he sat down in front of her.

The waitress came by and John Basilone ordered dinner and a beer.

"I'm surprised that a girl that looks like you is out having dinner alone," he said.

Eleanor shrugged.

"No one here catch your eye?"

She thought to the water and the smile.

She shook it away.

"Why is everybody so interested in my dating life?" Eleanor asked.

"You're the one woman in a regiment full of men. They all wanna know if they got a chance," he explained.

She rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"I remember the first time I saw you on Guadalcanal. It was all any of us could talk about for weeks. The woman marine."

"You know there is an entire Women's Marine Corps Reserve?" She replied. "I'm not the only one in existence."

The waitress returned with their dinner. She placed the plate of roast chicken and vegetables. John Basilone had a steak.

"Yeah, but they weren't on Guadalcanal. You were."

He had her there. What she saw on that island, she wouldn't wish it on anyone.

"Well, just because I'm the one woman, doesn't mean any of you stand a chance," she told him. "Men cause more problems than they're worth."

"Is that so?"

He had a small smirk on his lips.

"Is that why you came to sit with me as opposed finding your way to the nearest bar? To flirt?"

"What if I told you that I did?" He asked.

Eleanor huffed.

"I'll be honest, since seeing you in that ten…"

"I'm going to stop you right there before you say something you'll regret," Eleanor interrupted. "Whatever it is you think you feel… it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" He asked.

"Your friend," Eleanor stated. "The one you were looking for… did you find him?"

John looked down at his food for a moment and then reached for his drink. He took a long drink. There was a slight nod.

"It's grief," she told him. "It's different for everyone. Some let it consume them, others try to distract themselves. I was there when you lost him."

He put his glass back down.

"I'm sorry about what happened," she told him.

"I should be the one saying sorry," he told her. "I just thought…"

"It's alright," she replied. "Friends?"

"Yeah, friends."

Eleanor and John Basilone finished their dinner. John picked up the bill, despite Eleanor's objections. They went for a walk and grabbed an ice cream cone. She listened to John talk about home. She listened as he told a story about how he and his younger brother once snuck into the movie theatre because they didn't have enough money for tickets. They were caught, but they managed to get away by ducking into a trash can.

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked her.

"A sister," she answered. "Anna."

She then proceeded to tell him a partial version of the Coney Island story. How Eleanor and Anna snuck out and took the first bus. But Eleanor played one too many games of ring-toss, because the young man who ran the game was attractive, and they didn't have enough money to get back home. So, they busked until they got enough for a ticket back.

It was nice talking to him. There was no expectation of anything more. At least not anymore. They were friends and that was all.

And that felt pretty damn good.

* * *

 _April 1943_

Training had officially started back up. It came with the arrival of replacements. All of them were eager. Not many took kindly to her. She found it difficult to make herself care about their approval. Especially since all the veterans came to her defence. If she got bent out of shape over every comment a man made, she'd probably still be in Buffalo.

She was in the aid station, running a training for the new corpsmen. They would've already been taught the basics but Eleanor was running scenarios with them. Now they were focusing on practicing. She had them practicing bandaging side wounds.

"How's this, ma'am?"

Eleanor looked down and saw Lewis's face staring back at her. She blinked and shook her head.

Lewis's face disappeared and the new corpsmen's face replaced it. She shook it away and looked back at the patch job.

"It's good, but remember to keep the legs elevated," she instructed.

"Aye, ma'am," he replied.

The lecture ended not long after that. Eleanor remained in the aid station. She took in a deep breath and leaned against a nearby counter and tried to compose herself.

She didn't know what brought it on.

 _Breath in, Eleanor._

She took a few deep breaths.

"Excuse me?"

Eleanor turned away from the counter and towards an older man. She eyed him curiously. He was in a Marine enlisted man uniform. There were no chevrons on his sleeve signifying that he was a private. He looked like he should be in charge alongside Chesty Puller.

She could see the grey in his dark brown hair and crow's feet wrinkles around his eyes. But his eyes were youthful. He had a fatherly John Wayne look to him.

"Can I help you?" Eleanor asked.

"I -uh- I rolled my ankle during PT. Lieutenant Stone told me to come here," he explained. He had an accent she couldn't quite place.

She'd nearly forgotten that Stone had received a commission.

"Oh, of course," she replied. "Take a spot on the cot."

He did as she said. Eleanor went over to him. She examined his ankle. It was the tiniest bit swollen.

"That is definitely sprained," she stated. "I'm recommending you stay off it for the rest of the day. I'll look at it tomorrow. You can stay in here, if you want, Private… uh…."

"Graham, ma'am. Peter Graham," he introduced.

"Private Graham," she replied. "Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson."

At the mention of her rank, Graham saluted. But his salute was wrong. The palm of his hand faced out and his hand was flat on his forehead. He noticed the odd look and his eyes looked up briefly and he corrected his salute.

There was something about him that was odd.

"Sorry," he apologized but offered no explanation.

"Uh-huh…" But she kept on her way. "You're part of the new bunch of replacements?"

"Yes, arrived last night, ma'am."

"Where are you from?" She asked.

"Um… Maine."

"Where in Maine?" She asked.

"Cape Cod," he replied.

He was a good liar; she'd give him that. Eleanor, however, was better.

"No, you aren't," she stated simply.

He seemed taken aback by her response.

"See, I've met people from Maine. They don't sound like you."

It was a lie, but she was sure he wasn't being honest.

"And the salute… either you're incredibly stupid or…"

"Fine," he huffed.

She was a little surprised. She thought she'd have to prod some more.

"I'm Canadian."

Ah, that would explain it.

"Canadian? How…"

"It's a long story."

He was skittish about the topic. Eleanor decided to drop it. She was also hiding something, after all.

* * *

 _May 1943_

More replacements arrived as time dragged on. Private Graham was nicknamed 'Gramps' from everyone else in the company. He was a sweet man. She hadn't told anyone about what he said in the aid station, though Eleanor knew he watched her, trying to guess if she would say anything.

She received a few letters from Claire. The girl had earned her wings and she was moving on, closer to war. Eleanor didn't wish what she'd seen on anyone. She'd read Claire's letters and thought about Florence. She hadn't heard from the other girl yet. Eleanor had extended a branch, and she could only hope that she'd take it.

Today was a rare occasion where Lucky was with them at the bar. Eleanor these last few days found herself in a need for it. A few of the new replacements were driving her nuts.

Eleanor and Lucky sat at a table by the window. Hoosier took his spot. He'd gone to the bathroom. Eleanor looked over at Hoosier's knuckles. They were bruised. The skin was a little cracked and there was drying blood.

"What happened?" She asked concerned.

"Nothin'," Hoosier stated.

"Well, it clearly wasn't. What, did the toilet look at you the wrong way?" She asked. "Lucky, will you get some ice from the bar?"

"Sure thing," he said before getting up.

Eleanor examined his knuckled.

"Tommy… It's nothin'."

She ignored him and kept looking at the bruised knuckles. There was a bit of a crash behind him. Eleanor looked up and saw one of the new replacements from H 2/1 stumbling out. There was blood falling from his nose and a black eye beginning to surface.

Eleanor looked back at Hoosier.

"You didn't…"

"Tommy…"

"How could you be so stu…"

"Tommy…"

"Why would you…? They could throw you in the brig for this. One replacement is not…"

"Eleanor."

She stopped. He never called her by her first name. No one did. It had been so long since someone had called her by her name.

She allowed herself to admit that she liked the way it sounded.

"Don't worry about it," he told her. "He had it coming. It was worth it."

Lucky returned with a cloth full of ice. Hoosier flinched as she placed the cloth on his hand. She thought about that moment on the ship to Guadalcanal.

 _I'm not worth fighting over._

 _You're awfully full of yourself._

But there was something different in his voice this time.

 _It was worth it._

"You boys will be the death of me, I swear," she grumbled under her breath as she went and took a drink from her glass.

"Yeah, but that's why you love us," Lucky replied.

He was right, of course. Eleanor loved her friends despite them being complete idiots most of the time.

* * *

 **Things are getting more complicated, especially with so many secrets in the way. I'm excited to introduce Gramps. He's a character that will really have an impact on Eleanor's life.**

 **Also, my semester is done which means I will have much more time to write! Please let me know what you thought!**


	18. I Walked In (With My Eyes Wide Open)

_July 1943_

Mail call was always something the marines looked forward to. Despite being safe in Australia, homesickness was abundant. Eleanor found it worst here. There were no distractions. She looked forward to receiving a letter from Anna. Last she heard, Anna was in Morocco.

"Thompson, Eleanor R." The private distributing the mail called out.

"That's me," she said. He handed her the letter.

Eleanor gladly took the envelop. She opened it and smiled at Anna's handwriting.

"Who's it from?" Chuckler asked.

"My sister," she answered starting to read the letter.

"She's in North Africa, right?" Sidney asked.

Something wasn't right. Eleanor knew Anna. She knew when her sister was hesitating.

"Yeah…" She said distractedly as she read over the last paragraph.

She took in a sharp breath. Her hands began to shake as she clutched the letter.

"What happened?" Hoosier asked, a touch of concern in his eyes.

She re-read the last sentence again, letting it sink in.

"I…"

She couldn't tell them.

"Sorry… I gotta…" She didn't finish the sentence as she got up from the table and ran out of the mess hall.

Eleanor practically ran all the way back to her room. She sat on her cot, opened the letter once more and read the letter. She felt the tears well up in her eyes.

 _No,_ she told herself, _I will NOT cry over this._

She wiped the tears away.

* * *

 _May 1935_

 _She couldn't take her eyes off him. As she sings the final notes of The Man I Love, she catches Wesley's eye behind the bar. It had been a little over a week since they made introductions. It became routine after her show that she would go to the bar, flirt, and he'd give her a drink._

 _Wesley's eyes met hers. She sang directly to him. He had a smile on his face as she finished the last notes._

 _The audience began to clap. She thanked the audience. Honestly, all she wanted was to get off the stage and head to the bar. It was what she looked forward to all day._

 _She got her wish and headed to the bar. She took her regular spot and just as quick, her regular drink of vodka tonic with a single maraschino cherry. It looked like something she imagined Claudette Colbert drinking at some glamorous Hollywood party._

" _That was some set," Wesley complimented. He always said that._

" _Why thank you," she replied._

 _She took a. sip from her drink. She tried not to visibly shudder at the taste. She wanted to look more sophisticated, older. She knew she could pass for twenty._

 _While Wesley worked, Eleanor sipped her drink and talked with a few patrons who complimented her voice. But when the lounge emptied, Wesley and Eleanor remained talking. Eleanor never had someone she could talk to like this. It had been a week, but Eleanor. Was already smitten with him._

" _So, tell me, Ellie, when are you gonna let me take you out?" Wesley asked._

 _And with a large grin on her face, Eleanor looked him in the eye._

" _How about dinner?" Eleanor asked. "I'm free tomorrow."_

" _You've got fire. I like that."_

 _And suddenly, Eleanor had a date._

* * *

Today, they decided to go to the movies. She welcomed the distraction from the letter.

Gwen tagged along, as did Lucky's girlfriend Stella.

"It's nice," Eleanor said as the three women stood off to the side while the men were getting popcorn. "I've missed not being the only woman around."

Gwen and Eleanor had met in passing. Sid kept her mostly to himself. Eleanor couldn't blame him. He wanted to get to know her. Same reason Lucky didn't bring Stella until now.

Both girls were young and pretty. Gwen was barely eighteen, and Eleanor saw herself at that age every time she saw her. She could see the naïveté in Gwen she'd had back then. That same naïveté that led her to being an unwed single mother. But Sid wasn't Wesley. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

Stella was not much older than Gwen. Maybe she wasn't that much younger than Eleanor but Stella still had a youthful glow about her. She looked like she had seen a bit more of the world, or at least the troubles of it.

"How long have you been with them?" Gwen asked.

"Since the start," she explained.

"Were there other women?" Stella asked. Eleanor gave her a confused look.

Her mind immediately went to Claire Rousseau and Florence Kowalski.

"Um… no," she replied. "I'm the only one. Except when Chuckler sings, then there's another woman."

"Oh, ok," Stella replied deadpanned.

Clearly, Eleanor's sense of humor left much to be desired.

"So, does anyone know anything about this flick?" Eleanor asked.

She sure missed being around women, but as it turned out, she was not very good at talking to other women.

"What's it like, being around only men?" Gwen asked ignoring her question.

"Stinky, mostly," she told them.

"They don't… go… in front of you, do they?" Gwen asked awkwardly.

Stella reddened at the question.

Gwen seemed to immediately regret the question. Eleanor at that moment wanted the ground to open her up and swallow her whole. Her eyes were wide, unknowing what to say next. She regretted the question too.

But Chuckler swooped in to save the day.

"Got the tickets," he announced.

"Oh, thank you Jesus," she replied.

She followed Chuckler inside the theatre.

They were going to see some film called _Until Tomorrow, My Darling._ She hadn't heard anything about it. Though that wasn't a surprise, _Stars and Stripes_ wasn't exactly known for having the most elaborate of movie review sessions.

She didn't see the poster for the film just outside the auditorium.

Eleanor sat between Hoosier and Runner. She didn't think much of anything as the news reels started. They talked about the war in North Africa. Eleanor took in a breath as she thought about Anna in those trenches, having to stay in deserts with no cover. At least on Guadalcanal, they had trees to hide behind.

Then the cartoons came on. This one involved Donald Duck and the whole point was keeping information secret. In all honesty, Eleanor didn't care much. Chuckler liked the cartoons, he was laughing more than any kid would be.

And then the credits opened.

"Here we go," Eleanor whispered excitedly to herself. She hadn't gone to see a film since… well probably since she saw _Mrs. Miniver_ just before shipping out.

A few familiar names crossed the screen.

 _Directed by: Samson Kellerman_

 _Oliver Kessel_

 _Victor Lowe_

And then realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

 _Ellie Morrow_

Oh… Lord.

Eleanor couldn't believe her eyes.

"You okay?"

She was so wrapped up in her own shock, she could barely hear the question.

The script she knew was called _In the Light of New York City._ She'd always thought it was a bit of a mouthful… so, she supposed, had the producers.

The scene opened to Oliver's character Reggie sitting by the bar, shabbily dressed and drinking whiskey. The year was 1921. Prohibition had just begun and Speak Easy's were popping up all over the city.

His best friend, Victor's character Morris, arrives and tries to talk him into going and meeting his editors. Morris was the perseverant business man, and the charming one. Reggie, obviously, was the sensitive and traumatized writer.

It was always a writer. It was never a sensitive dentist. Did Hollywood really not know any other profession?

Eleanor shrank further and further into her seat. The movie ran out of money, that was the last thing she'd heard. Her big break had floundered. Her contract with Fox Studios after this film had been terminated, not that they'd given her anything that wasn't a walk-on role previously. But now, it was done. Five years too late.

Reggie was dancing with another woman on screen at a party. Eleanor held her breath. She knew what was coming.

" _And now, for our main event_ _…_ _please welcome to the stage Loretta Stone._ _"_

"Oh my God…"

"Holy shit…"

She could hear the muttering among her friends as Loretta Stone took the stage. Eleanor remembered the filming of that scene. She'd been so nervous. The director kept telling her to look both innocent and sexy. Vulnerable, yet able to hold her own. Pliable, but still puts up a fight. She was supposed to look like every man's fantasy, but still be attainable. Quite honestly, it was like he'd never truly met a woman.

" _Come on, darling, just hold my hand_ _…"_

God, she hated that song. It was a shallow piece of music written by a man to be sung by a 'mysterious' woman. She'd hated it back then too.

"Is that…?"

It was Runner asking.

"Uh-Huh."

Lucky leaned over Runner.

"You have some explaining to do."

Eleanor shrunk deeper into her seat.

This was torture, being forcibly dragged down memory lane. Almost like having her nails pulled out of her skin. Every scene she was on screen, Eleanor could remember the day it was filmed. She could remember exactly what was going on in her life. _In The Lights of New York City_ … well, _Until Tomorrow, My Darling_ , was the end of her life in Hollywood.

She thought this part of her life would remain buried forever. She never thought this film would actually see the light of day, certainly not five years _after_ it was completed. Eleanor didn't think it was a terrible film, in fact she quite liked the script, but she didn't think that it was something incredibly special.

Watching the scene where Reggie and Loretta find themselves at the same coffee shop, Eleanor remembered how Oliver Kessel kept flubbing his lines, which meant they had to do take after take.

During a dance scene between Loretta and Morris, Eleanor remembered Victor kept stepping on her feet.

" _Oh, Reggie_ _…"_ Eleanor's Loretta sighed as Reggie was confessing his love to her. _"_ _You shouldn_ _'_ _t fall in love with a girl like me. I_ _'_ _ll only break your heart._ _"_

"You'll break his heart, eh?" Runner leaned over and teased her.

She rolled her eyes. How she was managing to stay throughout this entire torturous endeavor was a true testament to her resilience.

At least her friends were having fun.

This story was a typical love triangle. After a series of misadventures, including a somewhat shady patron of The Tangled Web – how typical… Morris saves Loretta from the shady patron. Reggie has a bit of a breakdown over his time in the trenches. Reggie ends up leaving to go back to his hometown just in time for Loretta to realize she loves him. Still, they part ways.

As Reggie walks out of the Tangles Web one last time, Loretta sings a song called _Until Tomorrow, My Darling._ Well, she supposed the title became fitting to the film.

Her last scene is a close up of her face, a few tears leaking from her eyes. The script hadn't called for them.

The day they shot that scene, she'd been late to her call time because she went to the doctor. He confirmed what she'd already suspected. That was the day Eleanor found out she was pregnant. A few days before was when things started going sour with Wesley. They'd gotten into a fight the night before. That was all they seemed to do after Eleanor started working on _In The Lights of New York City._

' _What am I going to do?_ _'_

In that moment as she sang in that lounge built in studio, that was all she could think.

This was the tipping point. Eleanor knew there was more in the movie, but she couldn't bear it anymore. She got up and climbed over Hoosier and walked as quickly as she could out of the theatre.

* * *

 _November -1935_

 _Eleanor walked up the steps to her walk-up apartment. She moved in with Wesley a couple of weeks ago. Well, she was practically living there. He_ _'_ _d given her a key. She had her clothes there. Her lease on her old apartment was almost up._

 _She_ _'_ _d wrapped on set around an hour early. Last night, she_ _'_ _d told Wesley about the baby. His reaction was not unexpected. She hoped he_ _'_ _d be excited, but she wasn_ _'_ _t surprised to see him leave. She knew to give him a day to realize what was happening, and then he_ _'_ _d be fine._

 _The first thing she noticed when she opened the door was the sound of the radio playing. Eleanor opened the door wider and stepped in._

" _Wesley? I_ _'_ _m home,_ _"_ _she announced into the empty living room._

 _Eleanor hung her bag by the hook next to the door._

" _We wrapped early. I can't believe it's over… They were going out to celebrate, but I thought maybe you and I could have our talk…"_

 _She started walking through the apartment. The bedroom door was just slightly ajar. She'd closed it before leaving today. She walked over to the room._

 _She heard the moaning first. Eleanor opened the door and recoiled at the sight. Wesley was above a pretty blonde girl. A sheet was all that covered them._

 _Wesley turned his head briefly and jumped away from the blonde girl._

" _Ellie," He declared in surprise._

* * *

Eleanor made it outside the theatre. She took in a deep breath, the tears started falling from her eyes. This was what she'd wanted, her face on the screen, but not like this. In another life, she could've just been an actress. But that wasn't her anymore. She wasn't that same girl who got spotted in The Ladybird Lounge and thought it was her call to fame.

In the corner of her eye, Eleanor saw the poster for the film… her film. It had a drawing of Loretta with her hand on Reggie's chest. She stared at the woman on the poster, her reflection catching it. Ellie Morrow was elegant. She wore long sleek dresses, white gloves, and high heeled shoes. Her long hair draped over her shoulder, covering her eye slightly. It gave her an air of mystery and seduction. Samson wanted to make her into FOX's very own Jean Harlow.

Her hair was still curled and sitting proper on her shoulders. Her lips were red. Those were still reminiscent of Ellie Morrow. But Lieutenant Eleanor Thompson of the United States Marine Corps wore an olive green dress uniform. She wore dog tags instead of pearls. She wasn't elegant or glamorous.

It was like ripping off a scab from a healing wound.

"Tommy?"

Eleanor looked away from her reflection to see Runner and Hoosier standing off to the side. She wiped her eyes.

"C'mon, let's grab a drink," Hoosier stated.

She nodded and they went to the bar across the street.

* * *

They were three beers in when Eleanor finally started to talk. By then, Sid, Lucky, and Chuckler came to meet them. Gwen and Stella had gone home. She was telling them about The Ladybird and the few walk-on roles she had.

"You worked with Cary Grant?" Lucky asked.

"Barely," she said brushing it off.

"What's he like?" Lucky asked.

Eleanor shrugged. "Honestly… not the lady's man people think he is… if you know what I mean."

The alcohol was hitting her.

"Really?" Lucky asked. "Huh."

"Who cares about Cary Grant? What about Bette Davis?" Chuckler asked.

"Never met," she replied.

"Olivia de Havilland?"

"Sorry."

"Rita Hayworth?"

"You know, contrary to popular belief, not everyone knows each other in Hollywood. Besides, I was a lounge singer, that's it."

She was slurring her words. She'd never admit it, but she was drunk.

"Well, clearly it wasn't," Hoosier added. "You really did meet Benny Goodman, didn't you?"

Eleanor stopped for a moment and then remembered the conversation they had in the jungle when they were separated.

"Briefly," she replied.

"What was it like, being on an actual movie set?" Sid asked in wonder.

She took a drink of her beer before answering.

"Honestly, a lot of waiting. You get there, get ready, and then wait around for rehearsal, then lighting, then sound… then finally you actually start shooting. Then you do it again, and again, and again, until finally it's right," she explained.

"Those two guys, did you get along with them?"

She scoffed. "Victor… Morris, was a diva, but Oliver – Reggie, was nice. We bonded over the fact that we were both in theatre in Manhattan."

"Our nurse is a real movie star," Chuckler said. "Wow."

Eleanor chugged down the rest of her beer. She didn't drink often. It was hitting her pretty hard.

"I didn't even know you could sing," Sid added. "That was you, right?"

"Of course it was," Hoosier stated. "Can't you hear her singing in the aid station? Sounds exactly the same."

Eleanor would blame it on the alcohol, but she blushed.

"What about Marlene Dietrich?" Chuckler asked, that brief moment vanished.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "No."

* * *

The world was beginning to spin. After another beer, and at least two shots of what tasted like rubbing alcohol, she was well and fully drunk. She had never been much of a drinker. At some point, Runner decided it was time Eleanor go back to base. The rest stayed behind.

She had one arm draped over Runner's shoulder. The world was spinning too damn much to walk on her own.

Runner hailed a cab and Eleanor drunkenly stumbled in. She cracked the window open and they made it back to base. Runner helped her back to her room. He brought her to her bed.

"You're so sweet. Have I ever told you just how sweet you are?" She slurred.

Runner sat her down.

"Alright, Hollywood, time for bed."

Eleanor patted on the bed next to her.

"Any girl would be lucky to have you," she told him. "Is there a girl back home?"

There was a small smile on his face.

"There was this girl… Marietta."

"When did you meet her?"

Runner told a story about how his mom taught him to dance before he Marietta to the school dance.

"I stepped on her foot so many times… I thought she was going to whack me upside the head. But instead she laughed and we ended up leaving early to walk around the park down the street," Runner explained. "But I never made a move. I was an idiot… I wonder what she's doing these days…"

"Write to her," Eleanor told him.

"What if she doesn't answer?" He asked.

She shrugged. "'What if' is an excuse. It doesn't hurt to write one letter."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're pushy?" Runner asked.

"Pushy is just another word for determined," she replied. "So I take that as a compliment."

"I didn't say it earlier, but you were great in that movie."

Eleanor had a small smile on here face.

"Thank you."

"But I'm trying to understand how in the Hell you ended up here," he added.

Call it alcohol. Call it lack of judgement. But in that moment, Eleanor started talking.

"A fella did me wrong," she replied in her 'Loretta' voice, sweet and a little sultry. "Isn't that how it goes? It's always a man."

"What'd he do?" He asked.

"The worst thing a woman can do is fall in love with a man who is never satisfied," she told him. She had a small lump in her throat. She was opening a floodgate. "He'll always think he can do better. And the moment he gets bored… he kicks you to the curb and moves on to the next. He doesn't care about how he's messed with your life… he gets to walk away. The woman doesn't get to do that… _I_ don't get to do that… instead I have to live with it."

By the end, she had a couple of tears rolling down her cheek. All the things she had been holding in for years over Wesley.

"Live with it?" Runner asked.

She didn't really hear him. Eleanor was in a moment, she couldn't stop herself talking even if she'd wanted to.

"And it's never him that's gets blamed... it's always the woman. They tell me I should've known better... like I wasn't only eighteen years old and he was twenty-six."

"Tommy..."

"He wanted me to get rid of it, but I couldn't do it," she rambled, a few more tears rolled down her cheek. "He told me he couldn't be a father."

"A father… Tommy, do you…"

"And I can't even tell him how angry I am because that son of a bitch went and got himself killed in North Africa."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Runner looked at his friend in shock. He wrapped his arms around her as Eleanor cried into his shirt.

* * *

 **Secrets, secrets.**

 **Let me know what you thought! I have been waiting so long for this particular chapter.**


	19. When The Roses Bloom Again

The morning trumpet blew. Eleanor groaned as the sunlight streamed in her window. Her head was pounding.

Eleanor had been hungover before, but nothing like this. She woke up in still in her clothes from the night before. Her teeth felt like they had a layer of gunk on them. Her head was pounding and her stomach churned. Her eyes stung as though they lacked any moisture. Her mouth felt like she'd drank the entire Pacific Ocean.

It was not a good look.

She reached over to her canteen, still full of water from two days ago, and drank as much as she could. She didn't care that it was warm and had a vague metal after taste, all she wanted was some moisture to take away the dry feeling.

She could remember her conversation with Runner, and suddenly the panic set in. He knew the truth.

She pulled herself out of bed. She needed to know what she'd said. She changed into her other clean uniform and reapplied lipstick. Her hair was brushed out and pinned up into a Gibson Roll. Easy, and disguised her messy hair.

She walked out of her room and down towards where H 2/1 was bunked. She knew Runner would be there. Or he'd be close by. Their passes were still valid through today. She, Runner and Chuckler made plans to go back to the park today. Lucky and Sid were off with their girlfriends, and Hoosier was stuck with guard duty.

Sure enough, she ran into the three of them. Hoosier was the first one to notice her.

"Look at what the cat dragged in," Hoosier teased. "How's the head?"

"Hurts a little more now that you're around," she jokingly replied. Even though her insides were tightening with anxiety over what Runner now knows, she still found it in her to poke fun at Hoosier.

"Don't have too much fun without me," Hoosier said.

"Enjoy guard duty," Eleanor replied.

"We're wasting daylight over here," Chuckler stated. "Let's go!"

Runner could barely meet her eye. Eleanor had to get him alone. She had to talk to him. She had to tell him the whole truth.

* * *

They walked through the park until they came across another small café. Chuckler spotted the girl behind. Runner and Eleanor grabbed breakfast and a cup of coffee. They sat alone at the table. They didn't speak for quite some time. Eleanor anxiously sipped on her coffee, trying to think of what to say. Runner seemed extremely fascinated by the coffee in his cup. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

Finally, unable to sit in the silence, Eleanor put her cup of coffee down. She looked over and saw Chuckler still chatting away to the woman at the counter.

"I have a daughter. Her name is Violet," she told him. "She turned seven last month."

Runner stayed silent.

"Her favorite book is _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ ; favorite movie is _Dumbo_. Favorite color is blue. Animal, bears though dogs are a close second. She's terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West…" She kept listing. "But despite that she loves Judy Garland's _Over the Rainbow_."

"Why are you telling me this?" Runner asked.

"So you understand that she's a real person," Eleanor responded.

"Where is she now?" He asked.

"One of the sisters from St. Mary's runs an orphanage in Chicago. She's taking care of her until I get back," Eleanor replied.

"You left her?" He asked in disbelief.

"Don't say it like that," she replied in a low voice.

"Like what?"

"You think it was easy for me?" She asked. "You think I don't wish every single minute of every day that I was back home with my daughter instead of being here? You try being a single unwed mother in 1936. I got fired from two separate hospitals when they found out. The last good job I had was a personal care nurse for an elderly woman and after she died… I had nothing. I did what I had to for her. Everything I do is for her."

Runner was quiet.

"I don't need you to judge me."

"I'm not," he replied. "I just… why didn't you tell me sooner? I thought we were close."

Eleanor leaned forward.

"We are," she told him. "I just… I don't know why I didn't. I guess… I was scared. If anyone finds out… I'll be kicked out of the marines. Maybe even court-martial me for lying on my papers… I don't know."

"Does anyone else here know? Hoosier?"

She shook her head.

"Only you," she told him.

He took his cup of coffee and drank it. Her anxiety didn't lessen. She watched as he absorbed everything that she told him. He put his cup down.

"I won't say anything," he declared.

She breathed in relief.

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you told me."

And she was glad too. If she had to tell anyone about Violet, she was relieved it was Runner. Now, having told him her biggest secret, she knew she could trust him, no matter what. It felt as though thee weight she'd been carrying had been lifted off her shoulders.

* * *

 _August 1943_

Ever since she told Runner the truth about Violet, she felt like she could breathe. She still felt horrible about lying to the rest of their friends, but at least she knew she could eventually tell them about her daughter.

Over the last month or so, Eleanor began corresponding more frequently with Claire Rousseau. In her last letter, she described how they were almost at jump training. She wrote in vivid detail how their CO served the enlisted men spaghetti and had them run up a mountain. At least their CO didn't set their camp on fire to wake them up in the morning. They'd developed a strange friendship over letters. She hoped that one day she could meet the other girl.

The biggest surprise came one morning during mail call. She didn't recognize the writing. She nearly dropped it in disbelief when she saw the name.

"Who's it from?" Hoosier asked.

She blinked twice, making sure she didn't imagine it.

"Do you remember that other nurse that was on the Canal?" She asked. She asked it mostly to Lucky, he was the one that found the woman's trunk.

"Yeah," Lucky answered. "Hard to forget something like that."

"She wrote me." Florence had written her.

Eleanor stared at the letter, not focusing on the words.

"Excuse me," she said as she stood up from the table and walked out of the mess hall.

She found a spot right by the training field on an unoccupied bleacher. Marines were doing regular PT. She could feel the shift now. It was only a matter of time before they head back to war. Eleanor opened the envelop and read.

' _Dear Lieutenant Thompson,_

 _It has been many months since we met on *blacked out by censors* and over that time, I have thought about you some. I am a proud woman, and I do not like to admit when I am wrong. I was cruel when we met. I must apologize for that. The things I said, my mother raised me better._

 _I thought, perhaps, I should offer an explanation._

 _I grew up in Poland. My mother was an American- Polish Jew and my father a Polish Jew. They met through family friends. We were happy. I had an older brother and a younger sister. I was smart at school, competitive with the boys. But everything changed when Hitler rose to power in Germany. My father, fearing what may happen, sent me away. You see, I am the only one of my siblings to have been born in America, meaning that I could leave Poland. It was complete chance. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate. I am still alive._

 _I came to America in 1938, and studied to become a nurse._

 _I tried to get them to come but it was too late. I do not know what happened to them. I have not heard a word since the Germans invaded. Part of me knows the truth. I haven't fooled myself into thinking they are alive._

 _I suppose that is why I was harsh. It was why I could make it through training. I have nothing left to lose, but at least I can help others._

 _I don't believe I will make it out of this war. But I hope you do._

 _I would like it if we would keep in contact. If that is alright with you._

 _I hope to hear from you soon._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Lieutenant Florence Kowalski'_

Eleanor felt a few tears prick her eyes. She couldn't imagine what Florence experienced. Her entire family… just gone without a trace. The thought of Violet or Anna… she couldn't bear to think of it.

"Tommy?"

Eleanor looked up to see it was Chuckler. He'd been on guard duty that morning.

"You alright?"

She quickly wiped the tears away.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I … I'm fine."

He took a seat next to her.

"Everything fine back home?" He asked looking down at the letter.

"It wasn't from home," Eleanor replied. "It was from someone like me. Another nurse. She told me something sad is all."

She was brushing it off. Out of all her friends, Chuckler was the one she thought least likely to want to listen. They hadn't spoken much alone since they were on Guadalcanal. It was especially during those late nights when neither of them could sleep and they would shoot the shit. Since they got to Australia, he was always flirting with the local girls.

"What was it?"

She was genuinely surprised he wanted to know.

"She… she told me her story," was how she could explain it. "And it was… It was horrible. Her whole family is just… gone. I always thought my life was a mess…"

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

She was mentally kicking herself for slipping up.

"My mother left me at an orphanage when I was a kid. I don't know who my father is," she listed to him.

And she had a child. That part was left unsaid.

"Jesus," Chuckler said.

"I used to lie awake at night, hoping she'd come back for me," Eleanor admitted. "And then I kept wondering what I did wrong. Why did she leave me? But compared to Florence… I'm lucky."

Eleanor handed him the letter.

"Christ," he said as he finished reading.

"Like I said… lucky. At least I didn't know my parents."

"You shouldn't have had to go through that."

She shrugged. "You make the best of the hand your dealt, or so the saying goes. If I spent time being angry at the world, I'd never be able to get out of bed."

"I know I'm not the first person you'd tell this too, but I'm glad you did."

"What makes you say that, Chuckler?" She asked.

"We talk but not like this. At least not anymore."

"We should," she replied. "I miss it."

"Me too. You know, all the shit we went through, I'd say we're family," Chuckler told her.

Her smile grew. Chuckler got up from the bench and she did the same. He walked a few paces ahead of her and her smile fell. They were her family. It made her feel all the more guilty about lying to them. Runner knew, and she knew she'd have to tell the rest of her them soon. But not today.

* * *

 _October 1943_

A month and a half passed. In September, Eleanor finally got the pictures from her camera developed. She recognized the picture of the original owner. He died on Guadalcanal. She tried to save him, but he was too far gone. She remembered specifically how he was shot twice in the chest, once in the belly. One bullet had severed an artery. He was dead before she got to help him. She didn't remember his name. There were too many of them to. remember them all. But, Eleanor swore that she'd send the picture of a smiling boy inn uniform to his mother.

Her own pictures, she leafed through them. She found the one taken on the Canal just before they left. All of them were smiling. She turned the picture around and wrote their names and dated the picture. A week ago, Eleanor received a letter from Claire. The girl was finally leaving the USA. She was on her way to Europe, apparently. I seemed strange to Eleanor that she didn't know what Claire even looked like and vice-versa. She knew what Florence looked like. A fact Eleanor did not mention in her letters. She didn't think Florence would want a letter from another complete stranger.

She decided to enclose the picture in her letter. She figured this was a good way to put a face to the name. She didn't ask for anything in return, but she hoped Claire would reciprocate.

Eleanor hardly ever saw Lucky anymore. When they weren't training, Lucky was with Stella. He didn't bring her much around. Sid, on the other hand, brought Gwen out with them often. It was nice to have another woman there. The two would talk about things she couldn't talk about with the boys.

But today, they were leaving on a three day march. Corrigan told her the night before. Lucky was getting back that morning from the funeral of one of. Stella's friends. It was nice of him to go.

Eleanor changed into her field uniform. She put on the pair of trousers and boots. Her stockings and Grade A was tucked away in her trunk. She grabbed her pack and her medical bag and walked out of the room.

She marched with the rest of her company into the back of a truck. It was a short trip to the train station. She was forced to sit up in the car with the rest of the officers.

She sat quietly next to a window and read her book.

"You know, you don't need to look like this is the most agonizing experience of your life," Corrigan stated as he sat in front of her.

"You think awfully high of yourself if you think this cracks twenty," she replied smartly. She looked up from behind her book. "Is there something I can help you with, Corrigan?"

"What did I ever do to warrant this?" He asked.

"But that's the charm of this relationship. You come in and annoy me, and I make a witty comeback," she replied. "Truth is, if I wasn't around to knock you down a few pegs, your head might get too big for that helmet."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bit of a wiseass?" Corrigan asked.

"Once or twice."

She and Corrigan never spoke outside of work. He was her CO and she did respect him. He was a good leader, but it didn't mean she wanted to be close friends with him. He didn't either.

"Did you hear about Green?" Corrigan asked.

"No?"

"Got a letter from home. He's now the father of a bouncing baby boy," Corrigan replied.

She had a smile on her face. "I'll have to give my congratulations."

"A few of us were thinking about going to celebrate when we get back. Would you come along?" Corrigan asked.

Eleanor's first instinct was to say no, but she liked Green and she was happy for him. They all needed even the slightest bit of good news.

"Sure," she said. "Why not."

* * *

They piled out of the trains and back into trucks. Then they were driven out in the middle of nowhere, given nothing but one sack of raisins and one sack of rice. They were told a Japanese soldier could live off that for three weeks. However, after months of good hardy meals, she dreaded it. Then, they would march one hundred miles back to Melbourne.

In one of her letters, Claire mentioned how she and her Airborne division marched over one hundred and something miles. This should be fine.

Eleanor took her normal spot marching on the outside of Heavy Weapons. Red was between second and third platoon. They split the company evenly between them. Besides, most of his friends were in second.

She spotted Gramps among the others in Heavy Weapons. He was in mortars with Gibson and Sid. She hadn't spoken to him outside of training since he came into the aid station. She noticed how he would look her way, almost as if he was trying to see whether or not she'd say anything.

Runner walked alongside her. The sun was beating down on her as they walked through the desert. To keep busy, she and Runner played a game of 'anywhere else'. The object of the game was simple, one person would say a location, and the other would have to describe why they'd rather be there than here or why they didn't.

"Um… Toledo, Ohio," Runner said when it was his turn.

"Easy, I could go there and make a killing as a stage actress. Not much talent in Ohio," she explained. "Okay, my turn, Argentina."

"No war there, and plenty of pretty girls," Runner replied. "Okay… what about… Idaho?"

"Ugh, I'd rather be here," she said honestly. "Nothing ever happens in Idaho."

"Fair point."

"Colorado."

"And freeze my ass off in those mountains? I'll pass," Runner said. "Okay, tough one, Italy."

Eleanor thought about it for a minute.

"I'd rather be there," she stated.

Runner seemed surprised by this.

"Even with the war on?" He asked.

"Anna's there," she replied. "At least if I'm with her, I know she's safe."

"What's she like?" He asked.

"Anna is… a force to be reckoned with. That's for sure," she described. "When we were kids, she always used to argue with the nuns about whatever she didn't agree with. She believes that women aren't just 'birth givers', but active members of society. She couldn't wait to vote in her first election. Anna is the strongest person I know. I'm not sure I would've made it this far if it wasn't for her."

Eleanor worried about her sister out on the line.

"I'd like to meet her someday," Runner replied.

"There's a great café down the street from Anna's and my apartment. When we get back, I'll take you there. Then, you can meet all of them," she said.

She didn't say the dreaded _'if'_. He didn't either.

* * *

Eleanor's feet were throbbing by the time they stopped the second night. The first night, Eleanor had taken off her boots for a split second, before locking eyes with a snake. Sid noticed them and killed it. She decided after that, she would never take her boots off on this march again. She'd live with the blisters.

That night, she lay on the desert floor with nothing but a couple of blankets. She used her bag as a pillow. She didn't realize just how much she missed her bed. She'd been taking it for granted.

She stared up at the thousands of stars above her. The moon was a small little crescent. She remembered loving these nights on Guadalcanal. The lack of light made it harder for the Japanese to bomb them.

She didn't have to look up when someone came to sit next to her to know it was Hoosier.

"Have you found the big dipper?" He asked. She looked over and saw him staring up at the sky.

"It isn't the same sky as back home," she replied. "I noticed that the first night clear night on the Canal."

She remembered staring up and feeling tremendously sad. It was the night after Lewis was killed. She looked up and told herself Anna and Violet were looking at the same sky, but she couldn't find the constellations she'd grown used to.

"At least the moon's the same," Hoosier stated.

"At least there's that."

Hoosier was shifting uncomfortably.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Got a blister the size of Europe on my foot," he complained.

"Want me to take a look at it?" She asked. "And don't give me that look of 'it's too gross' because I've seen the effects of venereal disease firsthand."

Hoosier wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Yes, exactly. Boots off."

Eleanor took out her flashlight as Hoosier slipped off his boot.

It was a rather large blister on the side of his foot. It was bulbous, full of liquid and looked about ready to burst. The skin around it was an angry red.

"Ok… I've gotta break it. Then put some sulfa and cover it. A few more miles and it would break on its own," she explained as she pulled out her knife. "It might hurt for a split second, but it'll feel better."

He took in a breath as Eleanor stuck her knife in the blister.

"Oh thank God," he said as he leaned back.

Eleanor cracked a smile and shook her head as she sprinkled the blister with sulfa.

"There, all better?" She asked.

"Thanks."

"Make sure you shake out your boot before putting it on," she said looking over at the discarded boot. He gave her an odd look. "Snakes."

He nodded as if to say 'Fair point' and shook out his boot.

Eleanor laid back down and stared up at the sky.

She began humming to herself, trying to pass the time.

"Ain't that from that movie?" Hoosier asked.

"Which one?"

"That Ginger Rogers one?" He specified. "The one where she's a dance teacher?"

" _Swing Time?_ " Eleanor asked.

"Yeah, that one."

"Yeah. It's _A Fine Romance,_ " she told him. "One of my favourites. You saw _Swing Time?_ "

"Is it that surprising?" He asked.

"Never struck me as the kind of guy that went to watch musicals," she explained.

"I guess I'm just full of surprises."

That he was.

"Did you always know you wanted to be in movies?" Hoosier asked her.

She shrugged. "I remember when I was a young girl, my mother would sing me to sleep. I can't remember her face. I don't even know her name, but I remember her singing to me. _Salvation Lassie of Mine_ was her favourite. I remember she sang to me the day she left me at the orphanage."

He didn't stop her from talking. For a long time, she kept her mother a secret. But now, she found herself opening up. She could trust her friends. Especially after Runner's reaction to Violet.

"It was the only thing I had that kept her with me. And, when Anna and I snuck into our very first movie, _Show Boat_ , I knew that was what I wanted to do."

"But you stopped."

She sighed. "Hollywood's not exactly an easy place to break in. What was home like for you?"

"It was home," he replied. "I went to high school, chased the girls, went to football games, and worked at the mill in town."

"What about your family?" She asked.

They hardly talked about home outside of the basics. Mother, father, siblings, but they didn't tell each other stories. But she'd told him about her mother, it was only fair he tell here something.

"You don't wanna hear about that," he shrugged. "Nothing all that interesting."

She turned over and looked him in eye. He was still sitting up but he looked down at her.

"Tell me. I want to know every single mundane detail."

"Before I left, we'd have Sunday dinner every week. Ma always made a four course meal. Apple pie for dessert. She made the best damn apple pie. It was the only time when all of us could sit together."

He had a smile on his face thinking about home. Eleanor thought about how his entire face always seemed to light up when he had a genuine smile.

"We'd play games. My baby sister and me were always on a team against my parents."

"How much younger is she?" Eleanor asked.

"Five years," he told her. "She graduated high school back in June. Now she's off to college to become a teacher. She's the smart one. Kind, determined… When my parents dropped me off at the train before basic, she cried the whole way there."

There was something in his voice. A longing for a family dinner and board games.

"You miss her." It wasn't a question.

He nodded sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, I'm glad you did," Hoosier replied.

The nighttime sounds of the desert engulfed them. Most of the other marines went to sleep.

In the moonlight under the stars, Eleanor began to get that feeling again. Same as on the beach.

"We should probably get some sleep. Long day tomorrow," she said breaking eye contact.

She lay on her back, staring up at the sky.

"Probably right," he replied. She heard him get up. "Sweet dreams, Tommy."

"Sweet dreams, Hoosier."

* * *

 **We are getting so close to finishing Australia! Let me know what you thought!**


	20. How High The Moon

After the march, an exhausting ending that left Eleanor sore for days, it felt as though they were back in New River. She was training all men now in basic first aid. That night, she was going out with Corrigan, Green, Stone, and the rest of the H 2/1 officers. The party started mid-afternoon. They all congratulated Green.

She'd been to this place before. It was a frequent haunt for American Marines. It wasn't too far away from the cricket arena and had cheap drinks.

She sat at the table, sipping on her drink. She sat next to Stone. Corrigan and Green were drunk, laughing at some joke neither could finish.

"I realized I never officially congratulated you on the promotion," she stated. "So, how does it feel, Lieutenant Stone?" Eleanor asked.

"It's some getting used to," he admitted. "Still can't believe it."

"You deserve it, Stone. You're a good man. A good leader," she replied.

She held up her glass of beer.

"Cheers, Lieutenant," she said.

She looked over at Corrigan and Green, still laughing at something.

"Welcome to the club."

 _God help us all._

"Cheers."

She tried to pretend she wasn't having fun, but the moment the band started, and Corrigan pulled her on the dance floor, she couldn't pretend. She danced a jitterbug with Stone, laughing every time he stumbled or clumsily tried to spin her.

At some point, Corrigan cut in.

"This is fun, isn't it?" He asked.

"It is," she admitted.

"Why is it that you never spend time with the other officers?" He asked. "It's always Leckie and his friends."

"They're my friends," she replied. "They were the first ones that were nice to me… Why do you hate Leckie so much?"

"Pfft. I don't hate him," Corrigan countered. "He's irritating and pretentious."

"He's honest," she replied. "He respects me and I respect him."

"And hey, I was nice to you."

She scoffed. "You tolerated me at best."

"And kept Jameson off your back."

"You did. He would've shaved my head if it hadn't been for you," she admitted. "Still, we were never friends."

"Why not?"

She huffed. They still moved relatively smoothly to the beat of the music. "I have more in common with the Enlisted men. We get undermined and treated the same way by most of the officers. The amount of times I've had to defend the calls I make. I don't fool myself into thinking they respect me more, but with them, I know they understand what it's like to always be assumed you're lesser."

"I had no idea."

"You wouldn't," she replied. "You never did it intentionally."

"I'll be better," he promised. "I'll listen more."

She doubted he'd remember in the morning, but the sentiment was still nice.

Eleanor spent the rest of her night dancing away. Corrigan and Green left at one point. Well, more like she put them in a cab back to base after they began to stumble about. She stayed with Stone. After Corrigan and Green left, Eleanor and Stone went back to their table. There was something about tonight that was making all the young GI's extra handsy.

She was about ready to leave, when she spotted Lucky walking in with Stella. She waved at them across the crowded bar. Lucky nodded and came towards her.

"Look who we have," he said he turned towards Stone. "Hey there, Lieutenant Stone, Tommy."

"Pull up a chair," Stone invited. "Don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting your lady friend."

"Stella," she introduced herself.

"Want to pull up a chair?" Lucky asked.

"Sure."

It was a curt, closed off response. There was something off about Stella's posture. She was stiff when Lucky wrapped an arm around her. Lucky wasn't noticing it, not surprising because men never pay attention. Or, more specifically, people in love never pay attention. She had the sinking feeling that Stella and Lucky weren't lasting.

She should say something, shouldn't she? Warn him?

Or, was she reading too much into it? After all, Eleanor didn't know Stella all that well. It had been so long since she'd been in love, maybe she was over thinking it. She could talk to him about it. She hoped that she wasn't right. She didn't want to see Lucky get hurt.

"Want a drink?" Lucky asked Stella.

"Uh, yeah."

"I'll come with you. Stone, another round?" Eleanor asked.

"Absolutely."

She got up from the table and followed Lucky towards the bar.

"Hey, beautiful," someone called out.

She felt a hand brush up against her rear. She clenched her teeth. She was getting sick and tired of this.

"Everything okay, Tommy?" Lucky asked.

"Fine," she said.

They got to the bar and ordered another round.

"So, how's Stella?" She asked as they waited for their drinks.

"She's fine. Things are going really good."

She could see it in his face. The optimism. Lucky was a romantic through and through.

"Have you thought about what'll happen when we leave?" She asked.

"I'll write," he replied quickly. "Then… when the war is done, I'll come back for her."

"And her family?" She asked. "Would you stay in Australia for her? Or would she move to the States with you?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it," he replied. "Why all the questions?"

"I… I don't want you or Stella to end up getting hurt in the end."

"Did you ask Johnny Red all these questions?" Lucky pestered.

Why were the drinks taking so damn long?

"No," she replied. "I haven't."

She didn't because she didn't think Gwen was about to break Sid's heart.

"Stay out of it, Thompson."

Not Tommy. Not even Eleanor. Just Thompson.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the bartender returned. Lucky grabbed his and Stella's drinks and started back to the table.

Eleanor went to get hers and Stone's when she suddenly felt a hand rest on her rear. Her eyes widened slightly as his hand squeezed. For one horrible moment, Eleanor was brought back to the Australian GI that cut off her path. All night she'd been getting grazes and comments. She turned her head and noticed the hand belonged to a Private. He moved in closer, she could feel his breath on her neck.

Lucky had stopped walking and was observing the scene. He moved to take a step closer to them.

Though the chatter was loud in the bar, she knew he'd be able to hear her.

"Private, if you don't get your hands off my ass right this instant, I'll have no choice but to do it myself," she threatened. "And trust me it won't be pretty."

He laughed.

She elbowed him in the nose.

"Jesus Christ!" He yelped as his hand left her rear and went straight to his face. She turned around and saw the blood gushing from his nose.

"Ah, you bitch!"

 _Oh geeze._

She could see that it was most likely broken.

"Oh lord," She said. "I'm sorry!"

The man was still whimpering.

"Tommy, I think it's about we head out," Lucky told her.

The GI's friends were checking on him.

"Uh-huh."

They abandoned their drinks on a table and went back to their friends.

"Time to go," Lucky stated.

Stella gave an odd look. The group of new marines were starting to shout.

"Yeah," Stone agreed. "Time to go."

They gathered their things and ran out of the bar.

* * *

 _A few weeks later_

Eleanor knew that the Private wasn't going to say anything. How could he say that he got his nose broken by a girl? A man's pride was the bane of his own existence. But, in this case, she used it to her own advantage. Anna would be proud.

She and Lucky didn't speak about his relationship with Stella again. They didn't talk much at all anymore. She'd overstepped, and she knew that, but she wasn't sorry.

Most of her friends were off on other duties. She ate lunch with Chuckler. She knew they would be leaving any time now. Eleanor looked around the room and she wondered just who she would be patching up or who she would fail to save.

Her thoughts drifted back to Guadalcanal. She thought about Lewis. The sweet naïve boy who always made her laugh… who died years before his time. She thought in that moment about John Basilone and the look on his face when he came looking for his friend.

The replacements asked about Guadalcanal. When the few asked her, Eleanor spared them the gory details. She merely said: 'It was bad.' She wouldn't tell them about the nightly bombings, or of the seemingly suicidal attacks. Someone else could tell them. They were all just children. And children needed protecting.

Her eyes drifted over towards Gramps. He sat alone, as usual, eating his meal. She hadn't had much interaction with him outside of training since he first arrived. He was a capable marine from what she'd seen. Much more capable than some of the other replacements. The few times she stopped by rifle training, she watched as he assembled and disassembled a rifle in under thirty seconds. He was mechanical in his movements. She could see the hardened look in his eyes. The same look almost all the veterans had. That caught her attention.

He looked up, his eyes locking with hers. She could feel it when he looked at her, the ever pondering question of whether or not she was going to tell the truth about him. She had that same anxiety now and again about Runner.

She didn't have any intention on revealing his secret. She didn't particularly care about where he was from. It didn't matter in the end because he was here. She was, however, particularly curious about why he was here. She'd be lying if she said she didn't let curiosity get the better of her and look in his file. The man was over forty, probably old enough to be the father of some of the younger marines. He had the demeanor of a hardened soldier, despite not having been in battle yet.

There was someone in this company that had more secrets than she did.

"Hello? Tommy? You listening?" Chuckler asked.

She snapped out of it.

"Sorry," she apologized.

Chuckler followed her gaze.

"Odd fella, isn't he?" Chuckler mused.

"What do you know about him?" She asked.

He shrugged. "Keeps to himself. Doesn't really talk to anyone. Why?"

"No reason," she replied. "Curiosity."

"Uh-huh."

"What were you saying before?"

* * *

 _A few weeks later_

They were being shipped out tomorrow. Next week. On Thursday… the rumors kept persisting. It was getting to the end of October and November was on the horizon. Not that they could really tell since Australia was hot every season of the year.

Eleanor had just wrapped up another lesson for the replacements, this time on proper lifts to get wounded men out of harm's way. She was cleaning up the discarded bandages when she heard footsteps.

Eleanor looked up; her eyes locked with John Basilone.

"Sergeant Basilone?" She asked. He never came to this neck of the woods. She didn't get to see him all that often, although they did run into each other a couple of times.

"Busy day?"

"Not more than usual," she replied. "What brings you to these parts?"

"I, uh, I came to say goodbye," he responded.

"Goodbye?" She questioned. "Where are you going?"

"They need someone to go back, beat the war drum and all that."

She blinked in surprise.

"I didn't want it," he clarified. "Chesty said it's how I can help the Core."

"It's good," she replied. "You get to go home."

He didn't like the idea of going home. That much was clear.

"Your story," she said, "that'll be something the public can really get behind. It'll make them see that all of this… is real."

"You'd think the newsreels would be enough. Not some guy telling a story about how he did his job and found one of his best friend's dead."

He wasn't looking at her. He was back on Guadalcanal in that tent asking if she'd seen his friend.

Eleanor reached out and took him by the hand. She knew his friend was dead. She didn't know it was John who found him.

"I'm sorry," she replied. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and then let go. "When do you leave?"

"Tonight. Hitching a ride on a plane back. Just wanted to come by and tell you in person," he explained. "Thanks, Lieutenant, for everything."

"You take of yourself, Sergeant Basilone," she replied.

"Same to you, Lieutenant Thompson. When all this is done, look me up."

"Same to you," she replied.

"I was wondering if I could write you from time to time?" He asked.

"Of course," she replied. "Good luck out there."

She felt an ache in her heart as John stood at attention and gave her one final salute. She didn't know when, or if, she would ever see him again. But she was happy for him. She'd give just about anything to be sent home on the war bond tour. She hoped he would be okay back in the regular world.

Eleanor returned it and Sergeant Basilone walked out.

* * *

 _Dear Eleanor,_

 _Thank you for sending that picture. It's nice to finally be able to put a face to the name._

 _I thought I might return the favor. This was taken just after we finished a practice jump. In one of your letters, I remember you mentioning how your friends are the one comfort out there._

 _When I first arrived at camp a year ago – gee, has it truly been that long? – I never would have believed you. I thought I was going to have to live through all of this completely alone, and I'd made my peace with that. How wrong I was._

 _They have become like family to me. I never thought I would find anything like that again. I joined the war because I thought I lost all of my reasons to fight. Now, it seems, that I've gained a dozen more._

 _All this to say, you were right. And I hope that this helps putting a face to the name. Had we met before the war, or even at the very beginning, I would have looked quite different. Sometimes I hardly even recognize myself. It was the both the simplest and the most difficult decision I made cutting off my hair._

 _I have to ask, why did you keep your hair long? I could barely manage it under the helmet, I can't imagine what it must be like, especially in the heat._

 _I promise to look after your picture. If we make it through the war, I would like to return it to you in person._

 _Best of luck._

 _Your friend,_

 _Claire Rousseau_

Eleanor looked at the picture and had a smile on her lips. Claire had a wide smile on her face. Though, from what she could see, the girl had opted to cut her hair. She stood in the middle of a group of men. On the back, Eleanor saw she'd written the names _Penkala, Malarkey, Muck, Russ, Roe, Luz, Guarnere._

She was tall. That was something else Eleanor noticed. She was wearing a paratrooper harness and uniform. But it was her eyes that drew Eleanor in. Claire Rousseau had the sort of eyes that feigned innocence. She had a natural beauty about her. This was with a short boy-ish hair cut. Eleanor wondered what she looked like with longer hair.

The other boys at her table felt the same. As she read the letter, Runner had caught a glimpse of the picture.

"Who's she?" He asked.

"That's Claire," Eleanor replied. "The one that's in the Airborne."

"Lucky fellas she's got," Runner noted.

"I sure wouldn't mind looking at her all day," Chuckler added.

"She could give me my government required dose of atabrine anytime," Lucky egged on. This was the most she could get out of him these days. He was going out of his way now not to be alone with her.

Eleanor rolled her eyes. "You're all dogs."

"Hey, I didn't say anything," Hoosier defended.

"And that's why you're my favorite."

"I thought I was your favorite?" Chuckler replied.

"Sorry, buddy, you've been overthrown," Runner said, clapping his shoulder sympathetically.

Once more, Eleanor rolled her eyes.

She grabbed the picture back and stuck it in the envelop. She thought to the story Claire told her. Why she joined, why she fought. She remembered Florence's story. They could both open up to her. They trusted her, she realized. Eleanor felt a stab of guilt that she couldn't do the same.

Only Runner knew the truth. He took it well. But Runner was sympathetic. He was logical. He understood her. Could she say the same about the rest? She loved them like family, but she couldn't bring herself to reveal everything.

Claire said how she would like to tell her friends, Muck, Malarkey, Penkala, Guarnere, Luz, and Roe about her brother someday. Eleanor wanted nothing more than to tell Chuckler, Hoosier, Lucky, and Sid all about Violet.

She felt a pang of longing as she half-heartedly laughed at some joke Chuckler made. This secret was feeling like a block of cement dragging her to the bottom of the ocean.

* * *

Another week passed. Eleanor wrote a letter to Anna, telling her about Claire's letter and how she wanted nothing more than to tell her friends about 'their common friend'. She knew Anna would talk her out of it. Anna was the logical part of her brain. Eleanor didn't mention how Runner already knew.

She was working late at the aid station. It wasn't a particularly busy day, minus the three or so marines that came in feeling sick and it was discovered all three of them had STI's. She treated as best she could there before sending them off to the Australian hospital.

"What the hell is that?" Hoosier asked pointing to the long word on his page.

"Sulfanilamide," she read it out. "Most simply call it 'sulfa'."

They stood in the small supply closet. He was helping her with her inventory. He came by the aid station claiming he had a pain in his foot. She noticed he seemed to do that only when she was working. It was never during training. Only on his downtime. At first, Eleanor though it endearing. Now, she put him to work.

It was mostly helping with inventory and cutting up bandages.

"There's powder, tablets, and in a bottle," she listed.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "The powder is best for out in the field. Pills and bottle are for continuing treatment. Make sure to note all of them separately."

She lectured as though he were another corpsman in training. It was hard to turn off.

She counted through the syringes of morphine. Hoosier came beside her and started counting syringes. He was in a plain white t-shirt. Eleanor noticed the scar peaking out from edge of his sleeve. She noticed the somewhat jagged edge of it. She supposed that was due to the paralyzing fear of being caught by Japanese soldiers.

That moment, that was the turning point for Hoosier and Eleanor's relationship. The moment she stopped seeing him as a challenge but as a friend.

"Stitched me up good, doc," Hoosier stated as he caught her staring. "My pops told me girls like scars 'Make ya look tough.'"

She gave him a sideways look, silently prodding for more information.

"I was a clumsy kid. Scrapped my knees, bumped into things… fell out of a tree once and sprained my wrist," he explained. He tilted his head back to reveal a small scar under his chin. She never once noticed it. "I smacked my chin on the corner of the kitchen counter. There was so much blood, my Ma thought I was dying."

"How old were you?" She asked.

"Seven. Thought it could climb up to sneak a cookie I knew Ma kept hidden. I slipped. Doc said I was lucky I didn't bite my tongue off," he recounted.

Eleanor reached up and her thumb brushed up against it. She thought about the panic his mother must've felt, the fear he probably had laying on the ground with blood dripping from his chin. It might have been the most terrifying moment of his life. All that for a tiny unnoticeable scar on his chin. The scar on his arm would fade as well. It was only a matter of time.

He looked down and they locked eyes. Slowly, she lowered her hand. Her mind thinking back to the beach and the brief moment she looked at his lips. Things changed between them. She wasn't sure when it happened but that fact was abundantly clear.

But nothing could ever happen.

 _But what if it did?_

"Hoosier?" She asked, breaking the moment between them. "What are you doing here?"

"My ankle…" he said pointing to his right ankle.

"I thought it was your foot?" She replied.

"Was it?"

"Why do you keep coming here?" She pressed. "Don't you have anything else to do?"

He shrugged. "Like I said, I'm clumsy."

"Hoosier, be honest with me," she replied. "Why are you here?"

She needed to hear him say it. She needed any sort of acknowledgment that wasn't imagining things.

"I think maybe you know," he stated and looked down at her.

"Oh…"

That was it.

When did this happen? How did she let this happen?

"Lieutenant Thompson," someone called from inside the infirmary. A saving grace.

"Coming," she replied as she exited the supply closet. It was all too damn close.

* * *

 **Yes, I'm alive. Sorry for the delay. This summer was literal hell. I moved twice, was at a very low point, and then school started. I just finished four productions back-to-back and also have a mountain of school work. The next chapter is already done, so I'll probably be posting it in the next couple of days.**

 **Thank you all for sticking with me through this.**


	21. Adieu

She hardly slept a wink that night. She tossed and turned thinking about Hoosier. When she finally did get some semblance of sleep, it was interrupted by a banging on her door. She woke up and got out of her cot.

"This had better be good," she said while pulling open the door.

It was Runner and Hoosier. For a moment her heart tightened at the sight of him. She could see the concern on their faces.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Chuckler and Lucky got taken to the Brig last night," Runner explained.

That certainly woke her up.

"What? What happened?" She asked.

"We don't know," Hoosier added. "Corrigan threw them in."

She ran her hand through her messy hair. She needed to think.

"Give me five minutes."

Then she shut the door.

Quickly, Eleanor got dressed. As she pinned up her hair, she formulated a plan.

* * *

She walked down to the Brig. Her medical kit over her shoulder. She told Runner and Hoosier to stay back. They wouldn't let them in, but they could potentially let her in. It was in her duties to look after the men in the Brig. She just normally passed it off to another corpsman. The Brig depressed her enough.

She reached the guards. They let her in no problem as soon as they saw the red cross that donned her sleeve.

The Brig was in the dank basement of the arena. The men were crowded together. It smelled like sweat and must.

"Don't sit under the apple tree with anybody else but me." She heard the soft voice singing from the corner.

"Chuckler?" She voiced. "Lucky?"

"Tommy?"

She spotted them in the corner. Lucky rested his head on the wall. He stared up at the ceiling. Chuckler sat next to him. She even spotted Gibson in the corner. All of them wore tattered dungarees with large black patches on them.

She walked over to them. She crouched next to Chuckler.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah," Chuckler responded.

"What happened?"

"Corrigan's an ass." It was Lucky who spoke.

"And you're an idiot," Chuckler chastised. He lowered his head. "And I'm an idiot."

Eleanor went over to Lucky and saw he had a small cut on his lip.

She reached forward to take a look but he flinched away.

"What happened?" She asked again.

"Chuckler was on guard and had to take a piss. I was drunk and covered. Corrigan pissed me off," he explained shortly.

"You pulled the damn sidearm on him," Chuckler snapped.

"You did _what_?"

"I wasn't going to shoot him," Lucky replied.

Eleanor huffed exasperated.

"What's gonna happen to us, Tommy?" Chuckler asked. "We're gonna get court-martialed, aren't we? I'm gonna spend the rest of this war in jail and then…"

"You boys screwed up," she told them. "I'll see what I can do."

They gave her more headaches than her own six year old did. They truly were exhausting.

* * *

After she did a check on the rest of the boys in the Brig, Eleanor strode to the makeshift office Corrigan used. He was looking over a stack of paperwork. His head snapped up as she slammed the door.

"Figured you'd come here sooner or later," he said.

"We need to talk," she stated and took the seat across from his desk.

"Sure, make yourself at home," Corrigan grumbled. "I'm not sorry."

"I'm not expecting you to be," Eleanor stated. "They broke the rules."

He eyed her oddly. "No argument?"

"I just want to know… what's going to happen to them, Corrigan?" She asked.

"I haven't decided yet," he replied.

"Please, go easy on them," she begged. "It was a mistake and they know that."

"Go _easy_?" He repeated in disbelief. "Did you hear the part where Leckie pulled a sidearm on me?"

"He wasn't going to shoot you," she countered.

"Leckie has been insubordinate since the start."

"You never liked him. Don't let your personal feelings cloud your judgement."

"Cloud my… he pulled a _gun_ on me?" He snapped.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't know what to do. She thought about two of her best friends stuck in a dank basement.

Corrigan huffed.

"I can't have my men disobeying orders. It looks bad on me and the entire company," he explained.

"Leckie was an idiot, but Jurgens made a mistake."

"In the last war, he would've gotten shot for leaving his position. I think I showed him the mercy he deserved."

They were going in circles.

"Truth is, Thompson, I'm leaving H 2/1. I got promoted to Battalion HQ," he told her. "I have to leave the company in good order for the new CO. Leckie's a loose cannon. I can't let either of them walk away without being punished."

Eleanor looked down at her hands for a moment.

"Who's the new CO?" She asked.

"I don't know yet. Captain gave me the news yesterday," Corrigan replied.

"Congratulations," she said.

"Thank you."

She had an idea. There was potential it would backfire. In fact, it probably would. But if she could convince him, Lucky and Chuckler would be fine.

"You don't have to let them go without punishment," she added. "But don't have them court-martialed.

"And what exactly would you have me do, Lieutenant Thompson?"

"Demote Jurgens," she offered. "Bust him back to Private. This isn't the last war and we currently aren't in the field. He made a mistake and he knows that."

"What about Leckie?" He asked.

Lucky. What could she do about him?

There was too much bad blood between Corrigan and Lucky. She had to think of something and quick. Otherwise, Lucky was going to be court-martialed.

An idea came to mind.

"Transfer him," she offered. "It'll send a message to the others."

It was better than a bullet or a cell.

"I'll consider it, but they're spending a week in the Brig."

Eleanor nodded.

"I'm doing this out of respect for you," he told her. "I don't understand what it is you see in those guys, but I owe you for everything you did on the Canal."

"Thank you," she told him.

"Now if you don't mind," he said and looked up at the door.

"Of course, I'll let you get back to work," she replied. She got up to leave. Eleanor turned back towards him. "And Corrigan, believe when I say this, but I'll miss you."

The corner of his mouth twitched as she walked out of the room.

* * *

It was an agonizingly long week. Hoosier, Runner, and Eleanor waited on the edge of their seats for what Corrigan would do. It became increasingly anxiety inducing when they finally got the word. They were leaving Australia and heading back to the front.

On the night before their departure, Sid was off with Gwen. The others remained at the base. They tried to play cards to distract themselves, but it didn't work. They couldn't stop thinking about their friends in the Brig.

"What d'you think'll happen?" Hoosier asked.

One positive out of this whole debacle: neither Hoosier nor Eleanor had had a moment alone. She left him the last time without an answer. She didn't know _what_ her answer even would be. Now, at least, she had a moment to think about what she would say.

"I don't know."

It was the only answer she could give about anything.

Eleanor hated it.

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," Runner added. "Corrigan said a week."

And starting a few days from now, Corrigan would no longer be their CO. She was told by Stone, since Corrigan had been actively avoiding her for the last week, that it was a Canadian named Lieutenant Lebec.

 _Two Canadians in one company, what are the odds?_ she almost let slip.

Eleanor sat in her quarters with reading the copy of _Grapes of Wrath_. It was a bit of a slog, if she were being honest. Steinbeck was nowhere near her favorite author. But, Remy in Fox Company leant it to her while she leant him _A Farewell to Arms._

There was a knock at the door. She got up and saw it was Hoosier and Runner.

"It's a nice day, none of us are on duty, and tomorrow we head back to war," Runner listed.

"Our friends are in The Brig," Hoosier added.

"Yeah, that too," Runner replied. "And there's nothing we can do about it. So, I say we go out and try to make the most of our last day."

"Go AWOL for ol' time sake?" She questioned. "Why not?"

"Fuck it, I guess," Hoosier agreed.

They managed to sneak out undetected. After that, they started wandering the streets of Melbourne aimlessly. They shot the shit, and avoided talking about their friends. They avoided talking about anything that was coming.

"What? You didn't like _Gone With The Wind_?" Eleanor asked in disbelief.

"Three hours and what? Clark Gable walks away from Vivien Leigh? The man's nuts," Runner stated. "If I had Vivien Leigh in front of me, you bet I'd never walk away."

"Not every story gets the happy ending," she replied. "It's reality."

"I still think the man's nuts," he said as they walked into a shop.

The shop was a small boutique decorated with small knick-knacks. She saw a few lovely scarves hung from hooks near the front register. There were wooden candle holders, wooden birds and a kangaroo, but her eye was immediately drawn to the small display of postcards.

Runner and Hoosier looked around, feigning interest in something else. Eleanor examined each postcard. There were a few made from images of known tourist attractions in Australia. The Great Barrier Reef, the beaches… that sort of thing. Eleanor reached out and took a postcard depicting a clam park with sweeping willows reaching the calm river water that would lead to the sea. A single black swan floated in the water.

She'd been there. That small park by the Yarra River. She could hear the birds singing and she could picture Hoosier's hair shining in the sun. How he had a smirk on his face when he described a disastrous date she couldn't quite remember.

"Lovely one."

Eleanor jumped. The young woman behind the counter gave her a friendly smile. She looked to be her age. Her hair all properly curled and styled. She wore a lovely yellow dress that complimented her brown locks. She was pretty.

"Yes, it is," she agreed.

She lingered on the postcard a bit too long. She snapped out of it and looked over rest of the cards and landed on a card decorated with painted purple flowers. She'd seen them time and again throughout her time in Australia.

"What flower is it?" Eleanor asked hastily.

"Violets," the shop girl responded.

The corners of her mouth twitched. She took the postcard and stared at it fondly. There was an ache in her chest. She stared at it as if it were a photograph of her own Violet.

She placed the violet covered postcard on by the register.

"Will that be all today, miss?"

The other remained in her hand a moment longer.

Then she heard a laugh. Eleanor looked over her shoulder at Hoosier, who wore that typical grin on his face.

She placed the other card on the counter.

"I'll take them both."

* * *

It was night time and they found themselves in a park passing along a bottle of wine. The stars shined brightly in the sky. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees. It was calm, peaceful. Possibly the last moment of peace they may ever have.

"I'm gonna miss this place," Runner stated.

"You could always come back," she replied.

"If we live that long," he countered.

"Think the Japs missed us?" Hoosier asked.

Eleanor took a large drink from the bottle. She didn't want to think about the Japs that were waiting for them in the jungles, or the fact that this could be there very last night of peace.

She didn't want to think about her friends still in that dank basement and all the uncertainty that surrounded them.

She passed the bottle to Runner.

"I don't know about the Japs, but I know the mosquitoes definitely did," she joked.

They all visibly cringed remembering the bugs.

"Still determined to see a monkey?" Hoosier asked her.

"Lucky says they're not native to these parts… but he's not an encyclopedia, so I'm holding out hope," Eleanor replied.

"I'll tell you who's gonna miss us," Runner started, "The women of Melbourne are gonna be weeping by our boat."

She laughed and shook her head.

"Cause they were all lining up for you, Runner," Hoosier mocked.

"Hey, just 'cause you couldn't find a girl who'd put up with ya, doesn't mean the rest of us weren't lucky."

"Now boys, play nice," she mockingly chastised.

The laughter drifted away. For a moment, they sat in complete silence.

There was a melancholy weighing over them. They knew the peace would be gone tomorrow. There was also the gap of their missing friends.

"Think Chuckler and Lucky are okay?" Hoosier asked, as if reading her mind.

"I don't know," Eleanor responded.

"What did you say to Corrigan?" Runner pressed.

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Not if it doesn't work."

She grabbed the bottle and took another drink.

The only guarantee they had was tomorrow.

* * *

They drank more and soon they were heading back to base. Runner somehow drank much more than either of the other two had. He was singing Bing Crosby off-key and walking ahead. Eleanor and Hoosier kept an eye on him, ready to grab him if he went too far.

"Good Lord, didn't he drink the same amount we did?" Hoosier asked.

She laughed.

"Who knows?" she replied.

"I'm surprised it ain't you singing at the top of your lungs."

"I'm not that kind of drunk," she replied. "I'm not nineteen anymore."

"I never asked, how old are you?"

"Now, Private Smith, didn't your momma ever tell you not to ask a lady her age?" She stated lightly.

"If I see one, I'll remember that," he quipped back.

She got that familiar warmth that spread through her chest.

"I'm twenty-five," she told him.

He whistled.

"And how old are you, wise guy?" She asked.

"Twenty-one," he replied.

She'd never thought about his age, or even her own. She did think about it when she saw all the fresh faces. She definitely thought about it after finding a single gray hair during their time on Guadalcanal. But with Hoosier, Runner, Chuckler, and Lucky, she'd never considered how there may be a wide gap between them.

"Aren't you just a young buck," she stated.

"Four years ain't that much younger," he told her. "You woulda been the pretty senior every guy had a crush on when I was a freshman."

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure that role was filled alreeady," she teased. There was a small smirk on his face. "Go on, what's her name?"

"Mary-Louise Fisher," he said. "God, was I ever in love with her. Thought I could impress her if I joined the football team, but I was a hundred pounds soaking wet and short. I did not make the team."

"I would've paid to see that," she laughed.

"Luckily, I grew out of it."

Eleanor and Hoosier locked eyes.

"Tommy," he started.

She thought for a moment he might kiss her.

She thought for a moment about how much she wanted him too.

And then Runner started belting out _The Man Who Broke The Bank At Monte Carlo_.

She walked away from him over to her drunk friend.

"Alright, time to get you back."

* * *

The next morning, Eleanor packed her things. She didn't sleep. She couldn't. Every single fear she'd been pushing away for so long came rushing back. Once everything was put away, Eleanor walked out of her little room.

Part of her would miss it. She'd never really had a room to herself before. She wouldn't miss the stuffiness, or the isolation.

She shut her door and started out towards the field. She was among the last to be ready. She didn't have much time to find her friends as she hopped on the back of one of the trucks. She spotted Stone and Corrigan. The door to the back shut and they started to drive off.

She thought about Chuckler and Lucky. Corrigan locked eyes with her. He knew what she was going ask. He didn't say anything, he just nodded. She had a small smile on her face. She gave him another nod, saying 'thank you'.

They loaded onto the ship. Eleanor waited on top to spot her friends. She found Hoosier first. He stood by the railing facing the large crowd of Australian citizens waving them goodbye. She pushes. Her way over and stands next to him. She looks over at him and he looks her way. She smiles.

She sees Sid standing next to her. He stares at the large crowd. Eleanor walked over and wraps her arm around his shoulder.

"Did Gwen come?" Eleanor asked.

"She's here," he replied, a small, sad, smile on his face.

Eleanor felt a hand clap on her shoulder. She looked up and sees Chuckler standing there. She felt the relief swell in her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Lucky sullenly staring out at the crowds. Runner was next to him. He waved, but she could see the anxiety on his face.

She could feel the engines starting up. She watched as the ship started pulling out of port and as Australia, and their safety for the last year, disappeared in the distance.

* * *

 **Finally, we are done Australia. I can't guarantee when I'll have the next chapter ready, but I will do the best I can. Let me know what you thought!**


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